Starry Eyed
by lipstickletter
Summary: Alice travels from Manhattan to Portland for her job as costume designer for an up-and-coming movie. There she meets Jasper, a sexy mystery guy with a Southern twang, but there's something different about him. He's hiding something, what is it? AH
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm not done with LDF, but I had the sudden urge to write an AH Twilight fic and this is what I came up with. Feel free to read and follow both stories, I'd appreciate it! Thanks. This is Alice's point of view, by the way. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Twilight characters, that's all Stephenie Meyer. Happy trails! **

"Why are you going across the country again?" I groaned. Figures, Edward doesn't listen to me when Bella's in the room. My brother was completely preoccupied with his new epitome-of-tom-girl girlfriend, Bella. I wasn't fond of her from the start—I mean, who turns down a signature Alice Cullen makeover—but I got used to her and we were best friends.

"I'm a costume designer for this movie. They want me on set to get a feel for the location and meet the producers," I explained for the umpteenth time. I had to fly from Manhattan to Portland, Oregon to meet the producers of an up-and-coming movie so they can explain their vision. I was dreading the six-hour flight and lonely month I would spend there. Plus, I was landing on Friday, which meant I had the weekend to wallow in an unfamiliar town.

"Oh, right," his voice was distant and I heard him turn to leave the room, uninterested. I pushed in my favorite Jimmy Choos—platinum oxford heels—and winced as the seams stretched on my mahogany leather suitcase. I struggled with the zipper, but it wouldn't budge.

"Can you help me for a second?" I asked hurriedly. Edward huffed behind me and joined me next to the bed. I sat on the top of my suitcase and he rolled his eyes.

"How long are you gone for, again?" he asked as he easily closed the zipper.

"A month," I said, hopping off the bed and looking around my room. "And don't say I packed too much, because I don't want to hear it," I argued, sticking my tongue out at him before kissing his cheek. I heard a honk outside of the apartment building and sighed.

"I'll miss you," Edward said just as Bella came to the doorway. She had been living with us for six months. Edward was just about ready to pop the question. I hoped he wouldn't elope while I was gone…

"Ditto," I replied, hugging him around the waist and pulling back to lug my suitcase off the bed. It fell to the floor and Bella came to hit Edward's arm as he laughed at me.

"Help her with her suitcase!" she scolded him in a whisper. Edward complied and I grinned; I was starting to love Bella more and more. I wrapped my arm around Bella's waist as we walked to the front door of the apartment complex, Edward taking my suitcase to the trunk of the car.

"Have fun," Bella said with a smile. She'd miss me; she was just being the strong one. Her and Edward would be crying once the car pulled out of here. I smiled at the thought and turned to hug her—squeezing the hell out of her. I would miss her too.

Edward joined Bella when we parted and I slid my sunglasses on before heading over to the car as the driver held the door open for me. "See you in a month," I waved before sliding into the lush leather interior of the charcoal Mercedes. They waved back and before I knew it, we were off to the airport. I slouched back into the seat waiting for it to all be over. Portland, Oregon? What was in Portland?

After seven hours of security, boarding, kids kicking my seat, and reruns of television shows, I landed in Portland. I found my luggage before finding another driver, who held up a sign that read 'Alise Mullin'. Close enough.

My hotel room was flawless. One large queen sized bed with Egyptian cotton sheets, a flat screen television, kitchen, vanity in the bathroom, and three large windows with a perfect view of the skyline. I left a message for Edward and Bella that I got in all right, knowing that they were probably already asleep.

So tired of sitting and anxious from the long flight, I changed into skinny jeans and a frilly fitted vintage blouse and went down to the bar I had been eyeing on the drive to the hotel. Henry's 12th Street Tavern was exquisite. Lit with an amber glow, the first floor was littered with dark mahogany tables with stairs leading to a more secluded second story. The chandeliers gleamed brightly in the darkened room, guiding me to an isolated armchair on the second floor, where I sat with my legs acting as an easel to prop up my sketchbook.

My recent sketch that I had begun on the plane consumed me. The colors were of deep blues, radiant teals, and earthy greens. None of them were together, all spaced out in the collection I had foreseen while daydreaming. I wasn't sure they would fit with the movie project, but hoped I could patch them together once I went home.

A heavy bass accompanied the next song on the play list just as I heard a voice startling me out of my creative bubble. "Why is a lovely lady such as yourself alone in the corner of a bar on a Friday night?" the sultry southern accent caught me by surprise, my heart skipping a beat.

I looked up to see the body matched the voice: blonde unruly hair, sharp jawbones, dimples where his infectious smile kept me dizzy, eyes that pierced through me as if he could read my soul, a sculpted body that held itself through his fitted v-neck sweater, dark wash jeans, and cowboy boots—sexy.

"Was that a pick-up line?" I asked, a smirk tugging at my lips. He smiled shyly and looked down at his feet, his hands digging into his pockets. _Cute. _

"Did it work?" he asked, his eyes peering at me from under his lashes. I bit my lips to stop my jaw from hanging open. I hadn't been with a guy since James, who dumped me after calling me a prude workaholic bitch at my parents' anniversary dinner. Nice, huh? Still, even James didn't make me feel this way. No guy ever had and I didn't even know this guy.

"Sit," I motioned at the chair across from me and he took it, that contagious smile kept me biting my lip. We sat staring at each other for a few minutes before I blinked and looked away, folding my sketchbook closed.

"What were you drawing?" he asked curiously, the deep bass of his voice still knocking me off my feet.

"You come up with a pick-up line and now you're trying to seem interested in more than bringing me home?" I quipped. His smirk answered my question. "I don't even know your name."

"I'm Jasper," he answered. "And Miss. Sarcastic-Mystery-Woman goes by…"

"Alice," I answered, hearing my voice shake just a bit. My stomach flip-flopped as he stood up and held out his hand in front of me.

"Well, _Alice_," I just about fainted when he repeated my name, "can I buy you a drink?" I nodded absently, taking his hand and standing up. He grinned at his victory and we walked down the flight of stairs to the bar.

After buying me a drink, we slid into a corner booth and talked about where I was from, why I was there, our jobs, siblings, etc. He worked at a boring blue-collar job to pay for college—he wanted to be a philosophy or history teacher. He had a sister named Rosalie, who was a model and had recently moved to Los Angeles, but was coming up to visit him soon—which he dreaded since that meant he had to clean his house.

He grew up in Texas and moved to Portland for school and to get away from the small town—similar to my move Long Island to Manhattan. His accent was still there on and off; he said he couldn't seem to get rid of it.

I talked about Edward and Bella and even how I was sort of homesick already—which only came out after three more drinks. But Jasper turned the mood around quickly and had me giggling uncontrollably.

"I think you've had enough," he said as I reached my hand out for his beer. I had had enough and I don't know why I hadn't stopped after four drinks, but I ended up having six. I was pretty sure I was completely smashed and wasn't sure how this made me look—alcoholic or I was drinking my homesickness away: either one looked bad.

"No, I'm f—ine," I slurred, pausing to hiccup, which sent me into hysterics again. He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling be out of the booth and supporting me as I stumbled. He grabbed my sketchbook off the seat before leaving the bar. "Seriously, I'm fi-ne," I hiccupped again and grinned, leaning my cheek against his chest. He was so warm…

"Where's your hotel?" he asked and I shrugged. He sighed and took my purse, finding my cardkey and finding his way to wherever the hotel was.

"Hey, it's not nice to take a lady's purse," I scolded him, closing my eyes as he led me down vaguely familiar streets.

"It's not nice to leave a lady lost and intoxicated," he replied with that favorite smile of mine. He opened the door for me once we arrived at the hotel—only two blocks from the bar—and I stumbled inside before he lunged to steady me again.

His lips were against my ear. "What floor, Alice?" he asked as his arm fell under my knees, hoisting me up in his arms.

"Ten," I gasped as he stepped into the elevator and the doors closed. I stared at him, his face so close to mine, his jaw clenching and unclenching as his gaze stayed straight ahead. The elevator stopped abruptly and Jasper stepped out looking at me for the first time.

"What room?" he asked and I tightened my arms around his neck as he walked. He walked to the last door on the left, like I said. He slid the card in the lock and opened the door easily, still holding me in his arms. He went through the foyer, past the kitchen and living room, toward the bedroom.

He lied me down on the bed, taking off my heels and putting them on the floor at the foot of the bed. I watched him curiously through my inebriated vision as he sat by my side. "Do you need me to put Aspirin or something by your bed?" he asked, but I could barely process what he was saying. "You're going to have a killer hangover in the—"

I grabbed his hand and yanked him down to my level. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I leaned up to kiss him, not completely aware of what I was doing. His lips were satin, moving in sync with mine as I took his lower lip in between my teeth. He grumbled something, but I ignored him, trying to pull him down over me, but he wouldn't budge. I persisted, my lips attacking his hungrily.

"Alice," he mumbled against my lips and I groaned in frustration. "Not when you're—good grief, woman." We both pulled back at the same time and I bit my lip and giggled taking in his messy hair and lustful eyes.

"Did you just say 'good grief'?" I asked with another giggle. He rolled his eyes and stood up next to the bed, but I caught his hand. "Don't go," I pouted.

"You'll see me again," he said with a smile, leaning down to kiss my hand. His thumb brushed over the same place his lips met and he dropped my hand. My eyelids drooped, heavy with sleep as I watched him leave my room. They fluttered closed and I internally cursed myself. What if I didn't see him again? Why did I get so comfortable around this mystery man?

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**So are you interested? Should I even write more? Review with feedback, please! Thank you for reading! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This chapter is why the story is T. There is no lemon, just a lemon implied. The language is a bit more than it has been, so be warned.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Jasper, Alice, Rosalie, Bella, Edward, or any Twilight characters mentioned. They belong to Stephenie Meyer. **

My head was pounding as I woke up the next morning. The sun escaped through cracks in the closed curtains—had I shut those? I dug the heels of my palms into my eyes to rub away the sleepiness, but it made the pressure building up in my head worse. I rolled over, hugging the covers around my face, peeking out to see a bottle of aspirin and a bottle of water sitting on the nightstand. Suddenly, last night came rushing back to me.

Jasper, a lot of drinking, stumbling home, embarrassing, begging him to stay—"Oh God," I groaned, and covering my face with a pillow. But then I remembered his promise, "_you'll see me again_." I vaguely wondered if he was still here, he _did _have my cardkey.

I slipped out of bed and quickly downed the aspirin before padding to the door. I took a deep breath, opening it cautiously and peering into the living room. Huh. I walked out and went to the kitchen to find a fresh pot of coffee along with a note and my cardkey. I poured the coffee, my stomach filled with butterflies at the note—the suspense killing me slowly.

I downed a small bit of bitter black coffee before stumbling onto the stool in the kitchen to unfold the note. His number—or what I believed to be—was scrawled in a perfect messy masculine handwriting. I glanced at the clock: 12:30PM, ugh. Well, what else was I going to do on a Saturday in a foreign city?

I took my coffee and the note to the couch in the living room, curling up by the end table and taking my cell phone to my lap. I drummed my manicure against the plastic cover nervously before shaking myself out of it and dialing his number. I took a long sip of my coffee, trying to settle my nerves, as I waited for him to pick up.

_Ring… _This isn't his number. _Ring… _He's probably trying to embarrass you again. _Ring… _I mean, come on, a sexy guy you met in a bar, got smashed, and he wants to see you again? _Ring… _For what: your body?

"Good morning," a deep bass fell fluidly from the receiver—how did he know my number? Well he was in my hotel room for who knows how long! I paused for a minute, trying to calm myself down. I'd like to pass on the voice shaking for today, thanks.

"Um… hi," I said stupidly. _Moron. _

"Hi, yourself," he answered with a chuckle. "How're you feeling?" God, somehow he was a decent guy, who apparently didn't take advantage of girls when they got drunk—unless this was an act. Why was I so skeptical?

"Like I just got run over by a truck," I replied and he chuckled again. "Look, about last night—I'm sorry I was so…"

"Don't apologize," he cut me off. "I probably should've stopped you earlier." I curled my legs under me as I leaned my head against the arm of the couch, closing my eyes.

"Thanks for the aspirin, water, coffee, and—everything," I answered.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied with a smile in his voice. I pictured that catching smirk and couldn't help but smile too.

"Okay, so I guess, um…" I didn't exactly have a plan when I called him and kind of thought that was it. Yeah, he left his _real _number and helped me home last night, but would he really want to see me again? And I was sort of done embarrassing myself. Let him make the first move.

"That's it?" he asked with a chuckle. "I think you owe me, Alice," he continued. "I brought you home last night and didn't take advantage of you, even though you may have begged." I blushed. "Don't I get something in return?"

"Okay, what do I owe you?" I asked, my voice low and shaking in excitement.

"I'll pick you up at two," he said.

"Okay," simple enough. "Wait, what do I—" I heard the dial tone before I could ask what was appropriate to wear. Ugh. Fine! I jumped up from the couch—a little too fast—stumbling my way into the bathroom and taking a shower. I meticulously used the vanilla shampoo and body wash, reading in Cosmo that guys loved the smell of vanilla—that and pomegranate, but I digress.

I wrapped a towel around myself, scrunching my short-cropped hair as I dug through my suitcase for something suitable to wear. I picked up my Jimmy Choos and grinned: the perfect addition to any outfit. A clap of thunder erupted outside my window and I shivered a bit. All right, that's a no on the heels. I hoped we wouldn't be walking a lot.

The hotel room phone rang, knocking me out of my search for the perfect sexy-yet-casual outfit I could find. I picked up the phone, continuing my search. "Hello?"

"Miss. Cullen, there's a Jasper Hale here to see you, should I send him up?" I glanced at the clock. One forty five: the little ass came early.

"Uh… yeah, tell him to use the stairs or something," I said, grabbing a cobalt long-sleeved sweater dress that hugged my waist and flared out at the bottom and bunched at the sleeves, pairing it with black leggings and ankle boots. I put on my old brown leather watch that I never took off—one my father gave me that had been passed down throughout the family. I took a pair of vintage earrings and a thin silver chain to tie it all together.

"She says use the stairs," the incompetent hostess told him and I groaned.

"It's a joke!" I hissed and I heard him laugh.

"Take my time, got cha," he answered before I hung up.

I ran to the bathroom, tossing everything on and smoothing the shirt down. I took a bit of gel and twisted strands of my hair to curl it and shape it around my face before I did my make-up—modestly, really, I was never one for thick smoky eyes and huge lips. I heard a knock at the door and sighed, clipping my hair back with a ribbon. No, stupid. I took it out and shook my hair about, giving it a messy irresistible feel—or so I hoped. I bit my lower lip and stared at myself in the mirror for a second or two longer before I heard the knock, more confident this time.

Sliding on my shoes, which I changed to ballet flats, I opened the door and saw Jasper standing with a smile. I forgot how viral his happiness was and found myself smiling, too. Is hair was the same messy bundle it had been last night, his emerald eyes had an unmistakable glint to accompany his mood. He wore a navy blue sweater that was layered over a button-down patterned shirt, dark wash jeans, and those worn cowboy boots again—the boy could dress himself. His eyes ran down my frame, sending a shiver down my spine. I didn't know whether I should kiss him or not. We did a little more last night, but was a kiss hello appropriate?

Our eyes met and he took my hand. I leaned on my toes to kiss his cheek and he took that moment to whisper in my ear, "you look lovely."

"You came early," I stuck my tongue out and he smiled that brilliant crooked dimpled smile. "So where are we going?" I asked excitedly. He took his fingers to his lips and locked them, throwing away the key, but I reached out to catch the imaginary key, unlocking his lips again. "Seriously."

"You hate surprises, don't you?" he asked with a chuckle. "You all set to go?" he changed the subject. I narrowed my eyes and he tucked a loose strand of hair from my face, taking my ability to breathe with him.

"Yeah, hold on," I went into my bedroom again, calling over my shoulder, "you can come in." I grabbed my phone, seeing a text message from Bella, but ignoring it as I found my spare cardkey and black clutch. I went back out into the living room and saw him standing casually, leaning against the wall.

"There's no rush, Alice," he said with a smirk at my frazzled expression. He leaned off the wall and strode over to me, my heart accelerating as he brushed some hair away from my face and cupped my cheek in his calloused hand. He tipped my chin upward and I gasped just before his lips met mine. I was melted butter in his arms.

His arm snaked around my waist, pulling me flush against him. My hands rested on his chest as I stood on my toes to reach him. My tongue traced his lower lip, begging for his lips to part, but he pulled back too soon. I let out a huff and he snickered, kissing the tip of my nose, my forehead, my cheek, and then my ear.

"I don't want to ruin the day," he whispered. My fingers ran through his hair as my arm slid around him to keep him close to me.

"You wouldn't," I protested. I felt his cool spearmint breath against my neck and shuddered. He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it and pulled back. "Where to, Romeo?"

He smiled at the nickname and opened the door for me. "You'll see." We went down the elevator, which was not an easy task—the sexual tension was so thick I could almost taste it. He led me through the revolving doors and ushered me over to his black Acura with matching charcoal leather interior. He held the door open for me, keeping an umbrella over my head, and I slid inside. The engine roared to life when he turned the key in the ignition and when I heard what he had been listening to I burst out laughing.

"You listen to Coldplay?" I managed through chuckles.

"And Led Zeppelin," he said with a smirk.

"All right, just didn't peg you for a crooning Chris Martin guy," I said with another giggle. He didn't answer, just smiled all the while, driving out of the parking lot toward a Starbucks. "You know me so well!" I beamed and he rolled his eyes.

"I thought with the hangover you have, you need a little coffee, but apparently your hangover is nothing," he said with a smirk.

"I bounce back quickly," I quipped, he nodded and before long we were on the road again, me curled happily in the passenger seat with a half-full soy-based frappuccino.

We drove out of Portland, not staying in the town, which shocked me. Then again, would my face appear on Dateline? Was he driving me to a remote location to kill me? These sexy guys were always the murderers. God, I've been watching too many cop shows.

We drove through the scenic route, the destination still unknown, but he smiled and let me complain the whole way. After an hour and a half, I was convinced he was leading me out to where no one could find my body.

"Look, I have a family: a brother, mom, dad," I began with a teasing tone. "I don't need my face on the side of a milk carton. If you're planning on killing me, just let me into the secret and I'll stop being such an annoying victim. Better yet, I'll make it easier, I'll—"

"Do I scare you, Alice?" he asked with a devilish grin. My heart skipped a beat, thudding to catch a steady pulse. My cheeks grew hot and my stomach bubbled. He glanced to gage my reaction and I bit my lip, taking a sip of my drink, trying to regain some dignity. He chuckled.

"Maybe," I answered. What scared me was how I didn't care where we were going. What scared me was I just met this guy yesterday and I already felt as if he knew me more than my family did. What scared me was I was rushing into this and had already fallen for this guy when we hadn't even been out on a real date or known each other for a full twenty-four hours. What scared me was how this would all end.

"We're here," he said and I gasped as I looked out the window. Beach houses. He drove further down the winding road and my eyes widened as he parked in the lot that overlooked the Pacific Ocean. The most I had seen was the Atlantic Ocean and maybe a few bays, but nothing like this. There was something different about the beach, the rain making it a bit eerie, but it was passing into a light drizzle. The overcast skies left little light to illuminate the water, but just then the sun peered through to reflect brilliantly on the water.

"So you like it?" he asked with a laugh taking in my awed expression.

"Do you always take girls here?" I asked, turning to glance in his direction.

"Maybe," he teased just as I had earlier. I smiled and then looked down at my outfit unhappy. He pouted—_sexy—_and lifted my chin with his fingertips. "What's wrong?"

"I'm overdressed!" I exclaimed. He nodded and shrugged with that perfect deep baritone laugh that filled the car. "It's not funny, you should have told me," I argued.

"We're here to have dinner," he explained. "You're dressed just fine." He turned off the car before getting out and going around to open my door for me. I took the hand he offered to get out and felt my cheeks redden again. He led me to the doors of the restaurant that was covered with wide windows overlooking the beautiful scenery.

The restaurant was lit with candles and dimly lit chandeliers, the dark wood tables were spaced out sporadically based on proximity to the windows, and the violet chairs melted into the deep crimson carpet. We were given a circular booth set up on a few steps in the corner of the restaurant with the best view, overlooking the entire ocean. I slid into the booth and he took the seat beside me, comically doing the yawn-arm-around-the-shoulders move to make me giggle. He ordered wine and a seafood dish that I hadn't heard of, but soon we were sharing it.

Once dinner was over, we went out on the beach to my request. I didn't mind that I was overdressed and ruining my stockings. I held my shoes in one hand as I danced along the rocks, squealing when the water would crash up against it and soak me. He caught me around the waist, swinging me down to his level and wrapping me in his coat—that came down to my knees—as I shivered. I maybe had too much wine again.

The hour and a half drive back was torture. His smile was irresistible, his smell was of spearmint and that classic hand-me-down book smell that I found attractive. His coat wrapped around me stopped my shivering, but the way his lips quirked when he mentioned his sister or when I would get excited about a subject. The way his smile grew as I talked about fashion, my true passion, and how I wanted to one day open my own boutique. His goals, too, had him smiling and beaming with anticipation.

"We're back," he said. I looked out the window and grunted. He chuckled at my reaction and took my hand in his, kissing the top of it.

"Walk me up?" I asked. My eyes met his, which seemed to be debating my question.

"Alice," he said in that tone that you never want to hear. The tone that came before he said he just wanted to be friends. He cupped my cheek in his hand and brushed my thumb just beneath my eye. "I don't want to rush things."

"I think we've already passed that," I protested, putting my hand over his and took it to my lap. "I mean, what happened last night and today was definitely not first date material, it was really—romantic and I only have a month here, so why not make the most of it?" My face grew closer and closer to his, my hand cupping his cheek as my voice ended in a whisper and my lips met his.

He froze for a minute as I coaxed him out of his gentlemanly honor charade. He took his hands to my upper arms, pulling me back. "Let me park the car," he whispered huskily.

He slammed me against the elevator wall, his hands running down my sides as his lips explored my neck and collarbone. I closed my eyes, struggling for air. He lightly bit the smooth skin at the base of my throat, his lips skimming up to my ear. The door opened and he stood behind me, snaking his arms around my waist, kissing down my neck as I struggled with the cardkey. I slid it in once and tried the doorknob, but it wouldn't budge. I tried it again and again, hearing Jasper chuckle and slide his hand down my arm to take the key from me. He opened the door and kicked it shut as we entered the living room.

He pushed me down on the couch and I bit my lip as he hovered over me for a second before his lips met mine in a heated kiss. My fingers ran through his hair and my leg hitched over his hip, pulling him closer to me. He groaned and kissed my jaw line, tugging gently at my hair.

"Jazz-per," I purred and he grinned in satisfaction, his hand running up my leg to my thighs, massaging them through the thin material. Soon he was pulling my stockings down and I was un-tucking his button-down shirt from his jeans. Sooner we moved our rendezvous to the bedroom and—I convinced him to stay the night. It didn't take much convincing.

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**Do you still like it? Next chapter things will be heating up to explain a bit of what the summary explained. Jasper can't be _perfect_, guys. Review with feedback, please! Thank you for reading! **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: More sexual tension. Yay! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Twilight characters mentioned. That's all Stephenie Meyer. This was written for viewers like you. Thank you. **

I heard a knock at the door the next morning and groaned, rolling over. I felt an arm wrap around my waist and pull me closer and remembered last night immediately: Jasper, the beach, wine, dinner, begging him to stay, winning him over, and then this. The sheet was tangled around me, haphazardly managing to cover the two of us. I relaxed knowing he was still here and hadn't run out. I was still thinking he was running after me for this and since it was over…

He moaned in contentment as I leaned back against him, but I heard the knock again and fought against his grip. "Jasper," I whispered and he buried his face in my neck, ignoring me. I finally climbed out of his arms and stumbled as I found his shirt among the pile of discarded clothes on the floor, throwing it on and running to the door. I opened it a crack and smiled sweetly at the maid.

"Can you just give us a few hours?" I asked, meeting her widened eyes at my apparel. "Late night," I explained, biting my lip.

"I—well, yes," she replied with a thick accent, wheeling her cart of fresh linens and fragrant cleaning supplies away from the door. I shut the door with a sigh and leaned my back against the door for a second, looking around the hotel room. Our shoes were by the couch, where the pillows were strewn all over. My stockings were in the kitchen—how in the—and his sweater was in the doorway of the bedroom.

What was I doing? I wasn't the kind of girl to meet a guy and in twenty-four hours, have him in bed with me, even if he did look like Jasper. But I barely knew him. I knew his dream to be a history teacher, his sister, and that he was from the South, moved here, and couldn't kick his twang. I knew he knew how to charm women and it obviously worked with me.

Reluctantly, I went back in the bedroom and saw his perfect chiseled face illuminated by the bit of sunlight that came through the sheer curtains. I slipped under the covers and took his arm around my waist as I faced the window. His grip tightened and I felt his lips at my ear as his hand gripped the shirt I was wearing.

"Who said you could wear this?" he grumbled, his voice thick with sleep. "It's the morning, no clothes allowed."

"Good morning," I answered, ignoring him. He moaned a reply and his lips began trailing down my neck. I squirmed under his feather-light touch, but he held me still against his chest. A loud buzzing shot me out of my comfort as I opened my eyes to see my clutch on the nightstand, my vibrating phone making it shake off the surface.

"Wait—Jazz," I whimpered as I reached for my phone, retrieving it. It was Edward. I knew my brother and to answer it now would be better than later when he would call every minute until I picked up when Jasper and I may be in a more embarrassing position. But Jasper continued his teasing as I answered the phone.

"Hello?" I answered, my voice quivering as I felt Jasper pin me back against the mattress, unbuttoning the shirt as his lips met the newly exposed skin. I caught his hair in my fingertips, tugging at it to get him to stop, but he persisted.

"How's the middle of no where, sis?" Edward asked. I heard the television in the background. He was watching infomercials again. He definitely missed me.

"Portland's not the middle of no where," I protested as I felt Jasper's cool breath against my thigh. I jumped and I heard Jasper snicker under the covers. I put my hand over the receiver and closed my eyes. "Jazz, please," I whispered harshly.

"Alright, fine, what have you been up to?" he asked and I squirmed away from Jasper, who groaned and pulled me back underneath him by my ankles. I gasped and felt him pin my arms to the mattress as his lips explored my neck and jaw line.

"N—nothing," I managed to stutter. "Just sketching and stuff." I closed my eyes, biting back a moan as Jasper whispered something unmentionable in my ear. _God damn._

"You've been alone for a day just sketching? Wow, what a boring month."

"Uh huh, so—why'd you call?" I asked hurriedly. Jasper grinned against my shoulder and pressed another teasing kiss to my flushed skin.

"Well, jeez, Alice," he grumbled. "I just thought you'd want to know that tonight's the night." I jumped, pushing Jasper off of me. He grumbled something and smirked, rolling on his side as I sat up.

"You're going to propose tonight?" I squealed, bouncing with excitement.

"I just wanted to tell you cause I won't be calling you tonight and maybe not tomorrow if she says yes." I shuddered at that comment, knowing just what he meant, but I was still happy for my brother. I mean after Tanya's cheating fest, neither of us had good relationships. With Bella he was so—different.

"If you elope, I swear to God, I'm disowning you," I threatened with a smile as I hugged my knees to my chest and bit back a grin.

"She didn't even say yes," he argued, but I rolled my eyes.

"Yet. You know she will. Stop doubting yourself, stupid," I shot back and he laughed nervously. "Alright, well I picked your proposal outfit already. Are you taking her to dinner like I told you?"

"Yeah, that, um, Italian place," he mumbled.

"Where you had your first date? Edward Cullen, why am I even worried? What a romantic," I beamed with a giggle. Who knew my brother was a romantic? "Alright, go get ready and buy her flowers. Freesias and don't argue, she'll love them! Good luck."

"Thanks, Alice," he sounded as if he was appeasing his mother, but I didn't care. I was excited! Shouldn't he be? He was just embarrassed and nervous. He'd get over it.

"Remember, no eloping," I growled.

"Yep," I could hear the smile in his voice as if challenging my threat. I knew Bella always said she hated big parties. When I threw her her twenty-first birthday party, she just about had a panic attack. But a wedding is a wedding; it's a celebration and no brother of mine will get married in an unsanitary Las Vegas chapel with an Elvis impersonator as their priest!

"I mean it, Edward! I want to plan your wedding!" I pouted. He chuckled and I felt Jasper's hand on my lower back and I gasped. I turned to grab his hand and held it in my lap, squeezing it tightly to warn him.

"All right," Edward paused before adding, "tell that guy in your bed that if he breaks your heart, I'm kicking his ass."

"How did you—" How the _hell _did he know? Was I really that loud? I always joked that Edward could read minds, so I guess he knew I wasn't really paying attention before, but still… weird! Then again, it _is _Edward.

"What's his name?"

"Can I call you back?" I answered, my voice shaking like I was caught with my hands in the cookie jar.

"Have fun," he answered with a laugh. I hung up, looking down at my phone for a minute before I put it on the nightstand. Jasper sat behind me, his lips skimming over my shoulders and upper back. I smiled absently, closing my eyes and huffing out a humorless laugh.

"What?" he whispered, his teeth grazing my shoulder blade.

"I barely know you," I answered and he paused, sensing I didn't need any more distraction.

"I beg to differ," he replied with a small chuckle and I swatted his arm.

"I mean, last night was—amazing, I just… I don't want to think of you as some guy who picked me up at a bar, you know?" I turned to glance at him, leaning my back against his chest. His arms snaked around me and he rested his chin on my shoulder, listening as I went on. "I know you have a sister, a dorky dream, a black Acura, a wide taste in music, a romantic way to pick up women, an adorable smile," to which he kissed my neck as a 'thank you,' "a background in how to get a girl absolutely crazy, but I still feel like I don't really know you."

"Absolutely crazy?" he repeated with a to-die-for smirk. I pinched his arm and he chuckled as I blushed. "Well I know you're an aspiring runway designer, you're very ticklish," he said, tickling my sides as I squirmed. "You have a brother and a soon-to-be sister-in-law, who you miss already and you're alone in a city you don't really know for a job you don't really like. I know I frighten you, but I apparently make you 'absolutely crazy' and yet you're looking for answers I don't have. You're here a month, do you want my license plate and social security number?" he teased. I sighed and shook my head. "What else do you want to know?"

"Your family, your life—things I should know if this isn't just a fling. I mean, I like you," I looked down at the clothes scattered around the floor. "_Obviously._" He chuckled. "I don't want this to be a one weekend thing. I'm not the kind of girl to be picked up at a bar in a strange city and let some guy I just met sleep with me, I just—"

He tilted my head so I met his gaze before he silenced me with a kiss. I melted in his arms and as his lips pulled back, I whimpered. His nose nuzzled with mine as he spoke. "So we have today to continue the meet-and-greets. Relax, Alice, I don't take you as the kind of girl who does this often. I just got lucky," he soothed with a smirk. "I'm going to go to the bathroom and you can go make coffee." He tucked a piece of hair out of my eyes and his lips met my ear. "I'm not going anywhere," he whispered.

And then he was gone, closing the bathroom door. I shivered for a second, before shakily standing up and putting on his shirt that came to my knees. I padded into the kitchen and I looked around the hotel. Maybe I should clean up my clothes before making coffee. I was never one for a messy room, even if it wasn't mine. Edward would tackle me all the time when I re-alphabetized his classical CDs by album name, not artist name.

I took my stockings off the microwave and grabbed my shoes from the end of the couch before I heard another buzzing coming from Jasper's coat pocket that was on the coffee table. I reached in to find his cell phone blinking 'ANNABELLE CALLING…' _What? _I dropped it on the couch, stepping back. Who's Annabelle?

"Did you make coffee yet?" he asked from the doorway to the bedroom.

"Uh, no, I was cleaning up," I replied, still shaken. Was he seeing someone else? Was he married? Was I a home wrecker or was I the rebound chick? Oh God… "Your phone's ringing," I said, holding it out to him without looking in his direction. He took it and sighed.

"Do you mind if I take this?" he asked, but it seemed rhetorical as he stepped out onto the balcony and shut the sliding glass door behind him. I watched his face light up as he answered the phone, smiling and laughing with those catching facial expressions that had my heart struggling for a steady beat.

I shook my head, snapping myself out of it. He wouldn't be a cheater, would he? Then again, I had my mind filled with those investigation episodes: it's always the pretty boys, the ones who never seem like psychopaths and killers or cheaters. I shuddered, dropping my things on the couch and going into the kitchen to make coffee.

He wouldn't cheat on me. But were we even together? I told him I liked him this morning not even forty-eight hours after I met him, but we already slept together and he knew quite a bit about me. But I was only here a month and what would we be in a month? This was a month fling to keep me sane from my dull day job?

I heard the glass door shut and felt his arms wrap around my waist. I opened my mouth to question him, but I couldn't form the words.

"I know you're going to hate me," he whined and I froze. "But Rosalie just called," _liar,_ "and I need to stop home, she's coming earlier than I thought."

"Your sister?" I managed.

"Yeah," he sighed, nuzzling his nose in my neck. "But I can pick you up after work one day this week. I'll call you if she lets me out of the house," he said with a smirk. _Yeah, if Annabelle lets you out of the bedroom…_

He strode back into the bedroom, picking up his belongings and throwing his sweater back on. He slipped on his shoes and came back to my side and I started to unbutton his shirt. "Keep it," he said, putting his hands over mine. "Looks better on you, anyway," he kissed my cheek and I wanted to scream. Why couldn't I speak? Why did I just stand there!

He brushed my cheek with his thumb and kissed the tip of my nose. "I'm sorry," he pouted. "I'll make it up to you, I promise." And before long he was out the door and I was left alone in the kitchen with his shirt and bruised lips, wondering who the hell that mystery guy was. He sounded sincere, but would I really see him again or would he patch things up with _Annabelle_?

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**Cliffhangers all around! ****Any predictions? **Review?


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks for reading, story alerting, favoriting, and anything I'm leaving out. Happy reading!**

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns the characters, I own the basics of the storyline.**

_Monday. _Turns out the movie project was a bust. I was a little embarrassed to have my name attached to the project—an Indie adaptation of a teenage vampire romance novel—but it would give me the money. I still longed for enough money to buy me my own boutique of Alice Cullen Originals. But that was just a dream and on Monday, I spent my time taking notes on whatever the producers gabbed about, who didn't know the difference between cotton and silk or aqua and teal.

"I think I can figure something out," I replied when they finished their long-winded speech. I turned to look at them across the conference table that stood in front of the cork-wall filled with sketches of the storyboard. "So tomorrow I'm taking measurements?"

"Yes, bring in some sketches of a few ideas you're cooking up and we'll go over what suits each male actor on Tuesday. We'll deal with the girls on Thursday, that way you have the weekend to cook something up," one of the producers, a portly balding middle-aged man, advised. Hmm, middle-aged men working on a teen romance project. I wasn't here to judge, I was here for the paycheck. "It's a pretty low budget," he continued. "We're here to save money, not spend it, so the budget we gave you is the maximum." _What? _"Try to use synthetics or—"

_Did he _know_ what synthetic was? _Oh God… I went back to my hotel room after the long day, kicking off my boots and putting my feet up on the coffee table. I quickly grabbed my cell phone looking to see it blink 'ONE NEW VOICEMAIL.' _Jasper! _

It was Edward. I sighed, dialing the number and listening to the message.

"So you were right, she said yes… She's against the whole 'Alice Cullen wedding' idea, but I think I can convince her," I shuddered when he laughed. "Hope you're having fun in the middle of nowhere. Again, if that guy breaks your heart, I'm kicking his ass—" I heard Bella chime in the background, "_as if you could!_"

I laughed before I heard Bella squeal and that was my cue to shut the phone. I turned my phone over in my hands, wondering if I should call Jasper. He said he'd call me if "Rosalie" let him out of the house. What about Annabelle?

Before I knew what I was doing, I dialed his number and heard the phone ring. _Ring… _He won't answer. _Ring… _he's too busy with Annabelle. _Ring… _Just leave it alone, Alice. _Ring… _It's not even worth it. _Ring… _He's so worth it.

"Hey, it's Jasper," his voicemail picked up. "I'm busy, can't answer the phone, or I just don't want to answer your calls, Emmett," he laughed. "Leave a message." _Beep. _

"Hi, um… It's Alice, I thought I'd just call and see how you were doing—" I paused, tucking my legs underneath me as I hugged a pillow to my chest. "I had a shitty day and Edward's too busy with—well, I couldn't think of anyone else to call. I was going to go get a drink and didn't really want to sit there alone, but—" God, I sounded pathetic. "You said you'd call me and I'm being really clingy right now, so I'm just going to hang up and… yeah."

My face was bright red and I could feel the heat radiating off my cheeks from embarrassment. I sat there for the next few hours, waiting for him to call back, but he never did. I checked his number to make sure it was right about fifty times before I passed out on the couch. This was going to be a long week.

_Tuesday. _I woke up with a crick in my neck, rolling over and falling off the couch. I groaned and rubbed my forehead, grabbing my phone to check to see if he—he didn't. I sighed, getting up and going off to work.

I sat in the corner of the trailer on set, eyeing each actor as they conversed easily, giggling and gossiping with scripts in their hand. I was interrupted when a producer blocked my view.

"Let me see the sketches you've done," _shit. _I'd been so busy moping around, waiting for Jasper to call, that I hadn't even picked up my sketchbook. I was lucky I brought it with me today.

"I, uh, they're not done yet. I wanted to sketch them out with you here once I see the actors. Maybe the actors will give me a little spark," I covered quickly. The producer eyed me for a second, but I shrugged. "It's how I work. I need a model before I can really grasp the wardrobe." He nodded skeptically before walking over to the actors.

"Alright, everyone, you're here for some measurements. I'd like you all to meet Alice Cullen, our costume designer," he motioned to me, curled up in an artists' chair with my sketchbook propped up. I had a measuring tape beside me and a pen and pad to take notes. The actors all waved in their own goofy ways and I smiled back. "She'll be taking measurements and discussing your characters, wardrobe, etcetera. Daniel, you're up first," he motioned toward a tall bronze haired male in the back of the group, hidden beneath thick-rimmed glasses and a beanie.

I hopped down from the chair and sighed when Daniel approached. "Does anyone have a stool for me?" I asked with a light laugh.

"It's all right, I'll just bend down," Daniel replied with a smirk and I giggled.

"Take your hat off," I ordered and he obeyed, running his fingers through his hair. "Alright, you'll be in dark blues," I said absently, writing in my pad. "Gray and black—you're the vampire guy, right?" He nodded. "Yeah, all right, so I'm keeping you in darker colors, make your skin paler…"

_Wednesday. _No call from Jasper. I spent the day patching costumes together with the producer's assistant, who was just there to oversee my work. Instinct took in and it was pretty easy to patch together costumes for everyone. I was still distracted, though—constantly glancing at the clock and my cell phone to see if he would—he wouldn't.

_Thursday. _Nothing. No text message, no call. I had resorted to ice cream for dinner the past few days. The housekeeping maid was probably pissed off when she came to my room everyday. Cartons of ice cream were strewn across every surface and I hadn't really had the time to dispose of them myself. Lucky for me I had a fast metabolism.

But I was also tired on set. I could barely keep my eyes open from the nights of dairy binging and staring at my mocking cell phone. But god, this wasn't me! I'm not the kind of girl who just mopes around waiting for a guy to call! It's so stupid! I'm Alice Cullen, for goodness' sake! I don't need a guy to make me happy even if he is as romantic and sweet and—no!

"Alright, ladies." Today I would be measuring the female actresses for their costumes. I had a feeling today would be—fun. Plus, the girls were closer in height to my 4'11" stature rather than the 6'5" guys that wandered set. "This is Alice Cullen, she's the costume designer, she'll be taking measurements for you all today. Vera, help Alice with taking measurements, will you? Nicole, you're up."

I hopped down from my artist chair, taking my measuring tape and pen and pad out to start making notes. Vera, the brunette beauty, was a whopping 5'8" and held out her hand to shake mine. Her bubbly personality was suffocating in my depression, but I smiled and went through the motions, measuring and meticulously taking notes on Nicole's skin tone and hair color to aid my color choice. She didn't play a vampire, so it was easy to dress her, not masking her in dark hues.

The hour went on and I seemed to be going through everyone. Vera kept me company the whole time and we began talking about New York, where I was staying (hotel wise) and how I was doing with the project.

"You're from New York?" Vera asked, staying by my side as I measured a few more women.

"Yeah, bit of a stretch, huh?" I replied with a smirk. "Thanks, Jessica," I said as I finished the last actress. The thin-as-a-rail blonde nodded and walked off to her co-stars.

"Did you leave a boyfriend behind?" she asked with a knowing smile. I sat back on the stool and opened up my sketchbook; beginning the drawings of a dress I believed the last cast member would sport nicely.

"Excuse me?" I asked rolling my eyes as I nervously tapped my foot.

"I don't know, you've got this distracted look in your eye. I know I left my husband and baby boy at home, but the bills got to get paid and I wanted to be a director. I thought Assistant Director was a stepping stone, but it's just made me buy an apartment across the country and take up being a lap dog," she said with a laugh. "I get what you're going through, being so far from home."

"Vera!" the director snapped and she jumped up.

"Coming," she called over her shoulder before turning to me. "Look, my friend is coming up from LA to visit and I was going to go head out to the bar tonight. Do you want to come?"

"I don't know—I," couldn't think of an excuse.

"You said the Plaza hotel?" Vera asked with an I-got-you smile and I nodded reluctantly. "I'll pick you up around eight."

When I got back to the hotel, I showered and changed into a signature feminine every-girl-should-have-in-their-closet black dress. It was a simple cotton baby doll dress without much flare to it. I paired it with silver accessories, a thin silver chain, a silver bangle, and red heels. A bit too dressy for a night at the bar in Portland, but maybe I would see Jasper there… Who was I kidding? I didn't eve know what bar we'd be at let alone if I'd see him.

My phone buzzed and Vera told me her car was parked right outside the lobby. I smoothed out my dress in the elevator, walking to the car to see Vera in tight dark wash skinny jeans and a navy blue blouse. I was overdressed… again. I sighed and Vera smiled, telling me I looked great. I sighed, bracing myself for the evening and I slipped in the passenger seat of her car.

"Alice, I'd like you to meet Rosalie Hale, the friend I was telling you about," Vera said and I looked over my shoulder dumbfounded. _Rosalie Hale,_ Jasper's sister… She _had _come back early. Had Jasper been lying or had he—I—

Her hair was the same brilliant blonde as her brothers, matching intensity in her emerald eyes and a face any female model would kill for. Her floral strapless Dolce and Gabbana dress clung to her curves and her thin chain held a locket at the end. Her nude pumps just walked off the runway and she smiled sweetly, waving my way. She looked down at my outfit, eyeing me up and down like any model would. I immediately felt small. Had Jasper mentioned me? Did she know who I was?

"Rose, this is Alice, the one with—" Vera began, but Rosalie cut her off.

"The one with guy troubles?" she asked and I blushed, looking forward again. "With a fashion sense like yours, the guy isn't worth it," she said with a laugh. "Nice to meet you, fashion goddess. Finally someone in this town who knows how to dress! No offense, Vera."

"Nice to meet you, too," I managed with a smile. Vera drove off to Henry's 12th Street Tavern, just as I hoped and dreaded. Would Jasper be here? I had a feeling Rosalie wasn't the kind of person to invite her brother, but—where else would he be?

We took a table in the back corner, giggling and opening up pretty easily. Rosalie was star struck when I said I was from New York. Being a model, she longed to go, but she never had the chance. She related to my "guy troubles" with her boyfriend, Emmett.

He lived in Portland, but she commuted back and forth to LA. He would go with her some times, but always found that sticking around Portland was where he wanted to be. He didn't like California. Lucky for her, her manager was in Portland and would just send her out to California when absolutely necessary.

I told her about my dream to open my own boutique, designing my own clothes, the work. She shared my enthusiasm, saying I definitely had the drive and the fashion sense to make it. She was nice, funny, smart, and beautiful. It was a little weird to be sitting with the sister of the guy I had slept with and had me distracted, but I guessed it was okay.

"So, who's this guy who's got you crazy?" Rosalie asked, leaning across the table. Vera was off grabbing us another round of drinks. I shrugged and Rosalie shook his head, giving me a familiar smile, but her smile lacked those cute dimples he had—God, I'm pathetic. "Come on, Alice, spit it out."

"I met him the other night here. We hit it off and I haven't seen him since. I keep calling, but he doesn't—" my voice trailed off and I shrugged again, toying with the paper umbrella in my empty glass. "I don't know, it's stupid 'cause I won't be here for more than a month, so he has it right by keeping his distance, you know?"

"Wrong," Rosalie disagreed. "I've been with Emmett for a year and a half. Yeah, times get tough and it hurts to be apart, but we deal. Look, if you felt something with this, then keep trying. If it doesn't work out, then it doesn't, but you can't say you didn't try. Besides, we're young, we have a while to screw things up before we get it right."

I smiled and nodded. "Thanks, Rosalie."

"You can call me Rose," she replied as Vera sat down, passing the drinks along the table. "Hey, Vera, can I crash at your place tonight?" she asked before taking out her phone and checking the time.

"Yeah, sure. Why, what happened with Emmett?" Vera asked. I looked toward Rosalie casually and she shrugged.

"Emmett is up hunting with some friends, I don't want to ruin his trip," she said with a sigh.

"What about Jasper?" _and Annabelle? Mention Annabelle!_

"He didn't expect me home so early and Annabelle trashed the place. I'm giving him time to clean up before I stay at his house," she said with a smile.

"I miss Annabelle! We should all go to the beach again once Emmett comes back," Vera said with a reminiscent smile. "Alice, you should come, too! When is Emmett getting back anyway?"

"Next week. I'll go stay at Jazz's Monday, I guess. Maybe he'll finally clean the house," Rose said with a grin. _Yeah, maybe he'll clean up Annabelle's mess… _

I smiled with Rosalie and took a long chug of my martini. Rosalie was right. I felt something with Jasper; I should try to make it work. I should at least confront him about the whole Annabelle thing. It wasn't fair to just cut the ties and plus, it would be awkward later on when I would be with his sister throughout the trip.

After I got home, I pulled out my laptop and went on yellow pages to find out just where Mr. Jasper Hale and his Annabelle lived. I wrote down the address and planned to visit the liar tomorrow after work. It would be _some _Friday.

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**Happy Fourth of July (well, technically it's the 5th, but whatever). Thanks for reading and the more reviews I get, the quicker the next chapter goes up. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I was thinking of changing the name of this story to _Never Letting it Rain _to mirror Spencer Bell's song titled the same. It's a beautiful song that you can find on his website: spencerbellmemorial(dot)com. What do you think? Anyway, happy reading.**

**Disclaimer: Twilight characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, not me.**

There was a downpour when I finally got back to the hotel after work. Vera had driven me home, but I didn't have a ride to his house and knowing Vera knew Rosalie, I assumed she would think something was up when I asked her to drop me at her best friend's brother's house. I had an umbrella, so I could walk, but that wasn't the dilemma. What to wear?

I showered and fixed my hair into its messy natural wave before I chose a white cotton dress that had a low neckline and a pale peach belt. I slipped on a trench coat and ballet flats, not wanting to trip in the rain and break a heel. I took a look at his address. It was only a few blocks from the hotel, it wouldn't be that bad of a walk. Still…

Letting adrenaline take over, I just walked out the door, heading down the elevator and out the door. I popped open my dusty black umbrella and hopped onto the sidewalk. Lucky for me, about halfway there my umbrella broke and I was soaked. Nice, but I did have my trench coat that was soaked all the way through by the time I stepped on his walkway.

I hurried to the wrap-around porch and shivered as I heard a clap of thunder. All the lights were on in the pale yellow house. A few shrubs were spaced around his lawn for privacy, but the front was open to the public with three brilliantly large windows opening up to the street. It was an older, quaint house and the porch creaked with each shift of my weight from foot to foot. I hesitantly raised my fist to knock on the door and it came out as a weak thud.

I tried again and I heard it more clearly echo in the house. I stepped back, hugging my arms around myself as I tried to remind myself that I was angry with him. Hell, a walk in the rain to his house because he didn't call me back was reason enough to be pissed! Not to mention _Annabelle. _I jumped slightly when the door opened.

Jasper stood grinning in the doorway; flour caked on his auburn sweater, whose sleeves were rolled up to his elbows as if he'd been baking. I confirmed that assumption when I noted his hair was a mess; some kind of batter was on his cheek. His smiled immediately faded when he saw me. He stepped out onto the porch with me and sighed.

"Alice, what're you doing here?" his tone was disappointed, hushed. I shook from a mix of the anger and my clothes cold and soaking wet, clinging to my body.

"Oh, great, Jasper, nice to see you, too," I spat. "So is this what you do? Do you meet women at that bar a lot?"

"Alice, now's not a good time…" he began, his eyes begging for me to stop.

"So when is a good time? Because I've called you, left messages—you could have at least sent a text message back or anything, but you just wanted me to sit around waiting?" I said my voice growing to hysteria as I tried to stop the tears as my throat constricted. Jasper put his finger to his lips trying to get me to calm down as he reached his hands out pleadingly.

"Alice, please, if you could just wait for me to—"

"I've waited long enough for you to talk," I interrupted, stepping away from his hands. "You take all the girls to the beach, right? You take them all to the beach and bring them back to their place, spend the night, and then never talk to them again, am I right? Seriously, are you like every other guy? The gentleman shit was just a cover?"

"Alice, you don't understand. Can you just lower your voice and let me explain. I—" he requested, but I ignored him.

"I _do_ understand, Jasper. It wasn't Rosalie that called when you were at my apartment. It was—"

Suddenly a young toddler with a mane of perfect Shirley Temple strawberry blonde curls latched onto Jasper's leg, sliding down to land on the porch. Jasper looked down and placed his hand on the top of her head and sighed, looking back up at me. "It was my daughter, Annabelle," he explained. _Oh. _

I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it again as Jasper picked up the young girl and I saw their eyes were perfect mirrors of one another's. "What did I tell you about running out the door, crazy girl?" Jasper asked with a smirk as he tickled her tummy. Annabelle squealed and her matching dimples were revealed. She wore a pale green dress with white Mary Jane's and had the same dirtied look her father wore.

And then her eyes looked at me and she leaned her head on Jasper's shoulder. "I'm Annabelle," she grinned an adorable toothy smile.

"Nice to meet you, Annabelle," I switched roles, trying my sweetest voice possible, though completely astonished. "I'm Alice."

She smiled before cupping her hand over Jasper's ear to whisper rather loudly, "Daddy, she's all wet." Jasper sighed and nodded.

"I noticed. What do you say we let Alice in to dry off, huh?" he whispered back and Annabelle shrugged, hopping down out of Jasper's arms and running into the house. Jasper opened the door wider for me to come inside and I left the mangled umbrella outside before cautiously crossing the threshold, waiting for a wife to pop out of the woodworks.

He shut the door behind me and I looked around. The foyer had an open air to it; pictures that Annabelle had drawn were put all over the wall, toys were strewn across the floor, and still there were the remnants of a bachelor pad underneath the baby blankets and father-items.

"Let me get you a change of clothes," Jasper offered, going into the other room. Annabelle followed him and I followed her into his bedroom, which was the epitome of bachelor pad. Not one stuffed animal had made its mark in his single man glory.

A queen-sized bed wasn't made, clothes scattered across the floor and old pictures of friends were scattered on tabletops. Books were piled in the corner of his room with notebooks and crumpled pieces of paper that missed the trashcan. I could see why Rosalie didn't want to stay here…

He took a sweatshirt from his dresser and took my coat. He left the room to cross the hall and put my coat in the dryer, taking Annabelle with him. I changed in his bedroom like he instructed and left the room in his oversized sweatshirt that came past my knees. I walked back out with my dress to see Annabelle sitting on top of the dryer, squealing in delight as it vibrated and bounced her up and down. Jasper hung my dress on the clothing line; it needed to be dry-cleaned anyway. I wrinkled my nose and looked toward the door on the left.

"Something's burning," I noted and Jasper's eyes shot to the door that I guessed was the kitchen before he groaned.

"Shit," he said, running into the other room, while correcting himself. "I meant 'shoot'!" I picked Annabelle off the dryer and placed her on the floor before she grabbed my hand and I followed her to the other room to find the kitchen filled with smoke, masking the cream-colored cabinets and checkered tiled floor. I took Annabelle's hand and ushered her away from the smoke. She didn't seem to be bothered.

Jasper took what was left of the cake and put it on the stove, opening a window to let the smoke escape. He sighed and tossed the potholders onto the countertop before he looked toward Annabelle and I. Annabelle was staring up at me in childish curiosity and I smiled slightly.

"You're pretty… and you smell like vanilla," she commented with the same goofy grin as her father.

"Well—thanks," I replied with a laugh. Jasper huffed out a laugh as well and crossed the room. He put his hand on the top of Annabelle's head and bent down to her level.

"Sorry, kiddo. I told you I couldn't bake like Aunt Rose," he sighed and Annabelle stuck her tongue out at him. He kissed her forehead and stood up with her in his arms. "But what do you say to some hot cocoa?" Annabelle nodded eagerly and I smiled slightly as he looked toward me. "Alice, you want some hot chocolate?"

"Yes, please," I said with a small smile. I awkwardly sat on the kitchen stool as Jasper put Annabelle on the countertop before grabbing a pan and boiling some hot cocoa on the stove.

Annabelle swung her legs off the counter and bounced up and down before her attention span ended and she looked toward me. "We were just watching cartoons," she said with a nod. "Daddy was trying to make me a cake, but he's not as good as Aunt Rose," she continued with an adorable lisp.

"He's not, huh?" I asked, leaning forward and propping my head up on my elbows. Jasper turned to watch Annabelle turn her body to me, crossing her legs and ignoring her father for a second. I smiled at how comfortable she was around me. It seemed easy for her.

"Nope," she agreed. "He's good at hot cocoa though." Jasper left the stove for a second to attack his daughter in tickles.

"Is that all, munchkin?" he growled with a laugh. She squirmed and fought against him, the small kitchen echoing with her giggles.

Soon enough we had our hot cocoa and went into the living room to finish watching cartoons, but Annabelle fell asleep in Jasper's lap before the hour ended. He went to put her to bed and I glanced around the room. There were pictures of Rosalie and who I guessed to be Emmett next to pictures of Annabelle on top of the television and coating the windowsill. Her toys were all over the floor including a sock monkey and a few dolls, which were ironically kept in perfect condition.

Jasper cleared his throat in the doorway and I looked toward him, standing up from the couch. I bit my lip and shifted nervously. I had come unannounced and accused him of—but then he had a daughter? Obviously he didn't want me to know…

"So you're a single dad?" I asked stupidly.

"Yep."

"Are you—married?" I asked again and he sighed, shaking his head.

"Divorced," he replied. "Maria walked out with another guy three months after she was born. Nice, huh?" he shook his head before continuing with his gaze at his feet. "Technically, she can come back and try to get custody, but I don't think walking out looks good in court, even if you're the mother."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I whispered and Jasper leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and scoffing.

"Yeah because 'hi, my name's Jasper and I have a daughter' would get me anywhere in a conversation with anyone," he said with a humorless laugh. "You said you were here for a month and I didn't want her to meet someone who wouldn't stick around. She gets attached easily as you could probably tell."

"But—you didn't…" I couldn't think of anything to say. It made sense and I obviously ruined his plan to keep his daughter safe. I sighed, looking down defeated. "What about this weekend; who was with her?"

"My friends Peter and Charlotte stop by. Charlotte wants kids and is trying to win Peter over with the golden child as bait," he said with a roll of his eyes before he leaned off the wall and approached me, sitting on the couch and patted the space next to him. I sat down and he clenched his fists in his lap. "I'm a single dad—I play dress-up, have tea parties, bake cakes, and make forts during the week. When she goes to bed, I read cookbooks and I'm learning how to sew. For God's sake, I'm learning how to _sew_."

I smirked a bit and he paused. I put my hand over his fist to relax his hold. "Sometimes I take off the apron and glitter stickers to go out and my friends usually help. I need time to—stay sane. I juggle work with nail polish and arts and crafts while trying to do school work and keep her occupied—I don't want to be playing the single dad role anywhere, but at home. I don't want to earn your sympathy for this, I just—didn't want you to," he trailed off and shrugged. "I don't know why I didn't call you. You can add asshole to my list of things I am, I just didn't know how to—"

I covered his mouth with my hand and he met my gaze, "You done?" I asked with a smile and he nodded, his eyes relaxing and ridding themselves of their frantic craze. I lifted my hand and rested my forehead against his. For a second, I asked myself what was I getting into? I was here for a month; I could apologize and walk out. Then I remembered the piles of ice cream cartons and the empty feeling I felt when I hadn't seen him. I knew I was getting into something a lot bigger than what I had expected would be in Portland: _love. _

"You make awesome hot chocolate," I replied. Jasper rolled his eyes and laughed before pressing a kiss to my lips, cupping my cheek in his hand. We pulled back and I bit my lip, keeping close to him. "She's adorable, I don't know why you would hide her from anyone."

"That's what Rosalie said," he mused before his face scrunched up and he pulled back slightly. "She said she met an Alice last night, did you—"

"You missed a lot this week," I replied with a devilish smirk. He raised an eyebrow.

"Really? Tell me about it."

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**Congrats to Skylar87 and deltagirl74 who guessed correctly: Annabelle is Jasper's daughter! Cause who doesn't love a single daddy? What do you win? Um, a couple more chapters and a virtual cookie? Yeah... :-) Review?**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: This is loosely based around _The Holiday_. I hadn't noticed the connection until I watched the movie yesterday and realized I had subconsciously used the plot surrounding Cameron Diaz in this fic. Whoops! It's not exactly, but close enough that I want to credit it.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters mentioned. They belong to Stephenie Meyer... Except Annabelle, she can't have her! xP**

Work came a lot easier now that Jasper and I had patched things up. I found a bit of spark in my creativity again and the costumes were coming together nicely. Vera was sent to help me with whatever I needed seeing as the director really had nothing for her to do, so we grew closer, but no one knew of Jasper and I yet.

I had stayed away from the house for seven days, but Jasper insisted that Annabelle kept asking about me and I finally gave in and spent as much time there as I could the following week. By then, Rosalie had already spent her time with Jasper and was now staying with Emmett at his apartment. Long complicated story short, I would go over Jasper's house after work and stay with Annabelle until she fell asleep, allowing Jasper to get some work done or enjoying his company. After Jasper and I would enjoy our alone time, never going further than second base—jeez, I felt like a teenager again…

Anyway, it was Annabelle's birthday Friday; that was all she could talk about. I didn't know if Jasper was planning something and if he was, if he'd even want me there, but I knew that I had the best present picked out for her already. We spent out time together sprawled out on the carpet and I would sketch different dresses that she would model beautifully. I had never created a wardrobe for a young child, but she seemed excited, saying she wanted lace and sparkles. How the girl knew what lace was surprised me, but we would create our own dress mixing colors and adding new trims that she described as best she could. I had been making her favorite of the many in my spare time back at the hotel. I had hidden it from Jasper, as well. I didn't know if spending so much time with the young girl was a good thing.

I had a week left before I would leave, but everyone began finding out about the two of us by accident, not that we were really trying to hide it. On Sunday, Jasper planned for Charlotte to come over and watch Annabelle, who was already asleep, while we went out on an actual date. I had come straight to his house after work and even though I was supposed to go to the hotel to change first, we got a little distracted…

"Jazz," I whimpered as I closed my eyes, leaning back on the couch as his teeth grazed my ear and he whispered unmentionable ungentlemanly sweet nothings in my ear. I felt his hand on my hip, thumb hooking into my belt loop and tugging at my pants as our lips met. I ran my fingers through his hair, pulling him closer and he pulled back, his lips continuing down my neck. "We should stop," I whispered, my voice shaking. He ignored me and found a sensitive spot at the base of my throat, making me gasp.

I hadn't heard the front door open, didn't realize we had an audience until I heard an unfamiliar voice in the doorway. "Jasper, go have fun on the town, but I'm going to—Oh God—Jasper?" I pushed him off me frantically, not wanting to meet his friends this way. Jasper stood up quickly, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. A petite brunette stood in the doorway with cascading curls and a maternal gleam in her eye. The man beside her was as tall as Jasper, tanned skin, and a relaxed stance, already having a drink in hand from the kitchen.

"Damn," the man beside her whispered taking in our misshapen appearances. I winced, smoothing my shirt and running my fingers through my hair, though I knew Jasper's appearance was hopeless. Maybe I shouldn't wear lipstick around him anymore…

"Uh, this is Alice—" he motioned to me and then to his friends in the doorway. "Alice, this is Peter and Charlotte." I hopped up off the couch and reached a hand out to shake, but Charlotte took my hand and pulled me into a hug. I tensed for a second, not expecting such a warm welcome when I was just on the couch on top of their—so be it.

"It's so nice to meet you, Alice," Charlotte squeezed me tightly and I hugged her back, relaxing into the embrace. "I'm so glad Jasper's found someone!" I suddenly felt guilty. I was only here for two more weeks. He found someone who would be across the country in less than a month. How was that good? I hadn't truly thought about it, but the fear was still there curdling my stomach. I wouldn't be here for much longer; did he assume I'd stay? Still, I heard Jasper groan in embarrassment and Peter clasped him on the back.

"She's cute, where'd you find her?" I heard Peter mumble before Jasper whacked him on the back of the head. I pulled back from Charlotte's hug and Jasper and Peter were wrestling.

"Boys!" Charlotte whispered harshly, avoiding waking up Annabelle. "Knock it off. Jasper, go clean up, I'll keep Alice company." Why did I feel like he was leaving me alone with the in-laws? His friends were what mattered. His parents passed away when he was eighteen, he didn't have anyone else to approve of me except his friends and his sister, who didn't know I was involved yet…

Jasper obeyed, leaving the room and Peter sat on the armchair, avoiding the couch, and turned on the television, turning the volume down and flipping to the news. Charlotte took my hand and brought me into the kitchen, opening the fridge to take out a pitcher of iced tea and pour a drink. She offered me one and I shook my head before she situated herself across the table from me. I sat on the stool, shifting awkwardly and waiting for her to speak.

"First things first, I'm his best friend's wife. I've known Jasper for seven years and I understand how he ticks. Obviously you mean something to him because he doesn't let random women in his house let alone to meet Annabelle," she began, leaning forward and spinning her glass, absently. "I know this sounds like 'Meet the Parents,' but I don't want to see him hurt again, you know?" I nodded, opening my mouth to speak, but I had nothing to say.

"How long have you known him?" Charlotte interrupted with a smile.

"Um, a little over two weeks," I said and then shook my head, looking down. "I know that sounds like nothing, but I can't—there's something—I can't describe it," I said with a laugh. "As cheesy as that sounds, I just can't pinpoint it. There's something about him—_us _that just… works. I feel like he knows me better than anyone has—I'm not making sense, am I? I'm sorry, I'm blabbing," my cheeks flushed and I looked down as I tried to relax. Why as I trying to prove something to her? I was nervous. She was the first friend of Jasper's to know about me and judge me. I didn't know how to convince her that two weeks meant something more than acquaintance, but as Charlotte's smile grew, I knew she understood.

Before Charlotte could speak, Jasper had his arms wrapped around my waist and his lips against my ear. "Let's go," he whispered, kissing my temple before pulling back and looking at Charlotte with a smile. "Are we still going to the beach on Friday?"

"Definitely," she agreed. "Bonfire, roasting marshmallows, the whole bit. Alice, you should come."

"She has work," Jasper replied and I shook my head. Is that why he hadn't asked me or could he not want me around on Annabelle's birthday? I didn't mind staying away, I had tried that earlier and he seemed to persist that Annabelle kept asking about me every time I left her sight, but if he didn't want me _there_, I would understand.

"I can get off," I insisted and Jasper squeezed me around the waist. Charlotte stuck her tongue out at Jasper in victory before she sauntered off into the living room. Soon after, we left the house and made our way to my hotel, where I ran up to change before we went to a new chic bar. Jasper and I stayed huddled in a booth, not being able to keep our hands to ourselves. My hand was on his knee or his hand crept up my thigh, squeezing just the right place to make me gasp.

Our conversation fell short and I soon forgot what it was about entirely as our lips met. We always chose the secluded corners to give us more privacy and it came in handy as his hand crept further up my thigh, his teeth teasingly biting on my lower lip. I whimpered, tugging at his hair and pulling back. "God, you're such a tease," he grumbled, kissing my cheek and pulling back slightly.

The heat radiated between us and I tried to breath the tremors in my body away, but my hands shook with the sheer intensity of our embrace. It didn't end there; his lips were against my ear. "I'm getting more drinks." And with that, the warmth left the booth and all that remained was a bitter chill of loneliness. I sighed, leaning back for a minute and closing my eyes. My body calmed from its earlier high and I couldn't help, but smile. I glanced at my phone to see a missed call and text from Edward.

_Called you, you didn't pick up. Call me back when you can. _Uh oh, why did that not sound good? Before I could call him, I heard a familiar voice call my name and a shadow cast over the dimly lit table. I looked up to meet Rosalie's surprised emerald gaze. My smile faded as I realized whom I was here with and wondering if she'd approve. Beside her was a tall and intensely muscular man, but his smile exposed dimples that gave him a childlike charm.

"I didn't expect to see you here," Rosalie said with a smile, sliding into the booth where Jasper had just been. Her friend slid in beside her and his arm wrapped around her shoulder. "Emmett, this is Alice Cullen, the fashion goddess I was telling you about," she said and he beamed, reaching a massive hand that resembled more of a bear paw as I took it in mine. "Alice, this is Emmett."

"Nice to meet you," I said with a smile, shaking his hand. His boyish grin was exactly as Rosalie described.

"Likewise," he replied, but Rosalie stole the attention next.

"Are you by yourself or—of course, you're not. Who are you here with: that mystery guy who was giving you hell?" I immediately blushed and looked away as Rosalie nodded. "You two made up, that's sweet! What happened?" I hesitated, staring at the rings of condensation on the table in front of me before looking up at her.

"Um, turns out he has a daughter," I replied shakily. Rosalie's eyes widened, but before she could speak, Emmett's booming voice erupted, breaking us out of our chat.

"Jasper!" Emmett greeted him as he came back to the table with a two drinks. He stood up and catching Jasper in a headlock. Jasper groaned, a string of profanities pouring from his lips as Emmett messed with his hair.

"Emmett, seriously, can't breathe," Jasper choked out and Rosalie waved for Emmett to back off, but he moved so he squeezed Jasper in a brotherly hug. I smiled slightly, avoiding Rosalie's stare that was burning a hole in my temple.

"What have you been up to, man?" Emmett asked, pulling back.

"Uh—well, looks like you've met Alice," this was getting awkward fast. Emmett looked over to me and then back to Jasper, his eyes narrowing as recognition fell to his face. He pointed between us and Jasper sighed, nodding slightly to confirm Emmett's assumptions.

"Huh, small world," he shrugged and then crossed his arms, nudging Jasper roughly with his elbow. "She's cute, where'd you find her?" he mumbled the same exact thing Peter had just a little earlier that evening. I blushed and looked down, but before Jasper could say anything, Rosalie had a hand up.

"Em, go get me something to drink," she ordered sweetly and he shrugged, going off to the bar, but turning back when Rosalie added, "oh, and take Jasper with you." An odd feeling bubbled in the pit of my stomach at her words and Jasper looked over at me with an annoyed, but encouraging smile before following Emmett to the bar.

"You knew I was his sister," Rosalie began, her voice crisp with venom. Why would she be mad? I could see getting grossed out that I had been talking about her brother all along, but angry—livid, even? It didn't make sense. I opened my mouth to speak, but she shook her head. "I could care less about my brother, he can do whatever the hell he wants, but my niece is not neutral territory." So this was about Annabelle.

"I've met Annabelle and she's probably the sweetest girl I've ever—" I scrambled to hold my ground, but Rosalie cut me off.

"I know how wonderful she is and I also know what she went through when she was an infant. She won't remember much about her mother and I'm glad for that, but for you to waltz in her life so quickly and—"

"I assure you, Rosalie, I'm not going to do anything that her mom may have done," I assured her, hoping that this is what it was about: my loyalty to Jasper? But it wasn't about Jasper, was it? But cheating on the family and not just Jasper, right?

"You're not getting it," Rosalie spat bitterly. "You're here for one more week, what makes you think you can come into her life and just walk out?" I opened my mouth to speak, but I didn't have an answer for her. She smiled sadly and nodded, proving her point. Before I could manage saying anything, Jasper slid in next to me, kissing my temple. I looked over at him smiling weakly. His arm wrapped around my waist and I leaned into him gently, watching Rosalie as she teasingly pinched Emmett's cheek.

What was I going to do? I couldn't move here, all of my things were back in New York. My dream of owning my own boutique on the West Side, my want to live within a couple hours of my parents out in the Hampton's so they would see their grandchildren frequently, my ideal crystal clear life of marrying the old high school football star with a doctorate in something medical and—but then I looked at Jasper, his dimpled smile and captivating gaze, his compassion and love—with both his daughter and I—his brilliance and ambitious dreams, his messy unkempt hair and his mocking pout. How could I leave him? I had a week left. How could I leave him?

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**So next chapter will be a bit of drama and I'm thinking three more chapters? Maybe. Maybe more. Thanks for reviewing and keep them coming! What do you predict will happen: happy ending or sad? **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Ugh. First let me say in the last story I said Alice had one more week and then later I said two more weeks. It's one more week. I had been dancing around one and two and decided one would be more appropriate. Hopefully you weren't confused by my mistake. Though no one seemed to notice. :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own it, it's all Stephenie Meyer, except Annabelle. She's mine! :)**

Thursday night I laid on my stomach, my ankles crossed and swinging in the air on the plush red carpet in Annabelle's bedroom, painting her toe nails with a light peach shade—her impatience was enough to make me choose the quickest drying brand. She giggled and waved her hands around, smiling with new curiosity. In the past, only Rosalie painted her nails, even though she had begged Jasper to, so this was a rare experience for her.

Speaking of Rosalie, she no longer spoke to me and I avoided her like the plague ever since the bar incident. I knew she was right and her voice echoed in my head each night I spent thinking of Annabelle and Jasper. I knew I was just going to have to leave and it wasn't fair on either side. Still, I hadn't really processed it all yet. I would much rather live in the now than worry about the future. Now back to Annabelle…

She leaned back gabbing about what presents she was expecting: new dolls, new purses, and other girly items. Jasper was in the other room finishing up a paper for his philosophy class. My lips still stung from our previous encounter in the hallway just a few minutes ago. I bit my lower lip at the memory and snapped out of it.

"You're coming tomorrow, right, Alice?" Annabelle asked, stumbling a bit with her natural childish lisp. I smiled as I finished painting and closed the bottle, putting it aside and propping myself up on my elbows.

"I'll be here all day. You'll be sick of me," I said with a laugh and she gasped, shaking her head earnestly.

"I'd never be sick of you!" she replied and my smile widened, her lower lip jutted out in an adorable pout, quivering for a little added melt-your-heart-out sympathy. "All day?" she asked, her voice quivering.

"Yes, all day. No pouting allowed, birthday girl," I said with a smile, leaning over to attack her in tickles. She squirmed her small hands reaching out to push me away, but she was too weak. Her melodic giggles filled the small bedroom and I found myself laughing with her.

"Okay, okay!" she gasped between giggles and I gave her mercy, sitting beside her before lying on my back and staring at the ceiling. I felt Annabelle's eyes on me as her breathing relaxed and she mirrored my position on the carpet. She sighed dramatically, turning her head to look at me. "Alice?"

"Yeah?" I turned my head to look at her as she bit back a smile. She already knew I would say yes to whatever she said so long as it didn't involve something illegal—actually, I may even say yes then.

"Can we make a fort?" she asked with pleading eyes.

"Why not?" I shrugged, hopping up to my feet and taking her hands to help her up as well. Swinging her up to a standing position, I went to the hall closet to look for blankets and grabbed a few fleece patterned throw blankets. We—I took the blankets and pinned them to the ceiling and different corners of the room, draping the fabric down to the floor while Annabelle gathered her pillows and stuffed animals, placing them in a neat and secure order.

Soon we were under the fort with the lights off and a nightlight placed in the middle, illuminating the inside with an eerie glow. Annabelle's lips formed an O-shape in delight and awe before she was once again attacked with the dreaded tickle fight. Once the giggles were over, we lay under the blankets as I hummed quietly, studying every crevasse. Suddenly, Annabelle climbed out and I sat up.

"Where'd you go, silly girl?" I asked with a smile, but before I could go look, she was ducking under the opening flap with a book in hand. My jaw dropped as she climbed over the pillows to sit next to me, handing me the book, _A Bad Case of Stripes, _a story of a girl who is covered in stripes after lying to fit in_. _My mom read it to me as a kid when I was bullied for my short hair, which just wouldn't grow out naturally, and my short stature.

"Can you read to me?" she asked, already getting comfortable beside me. I nodded wordlessly and propped a pillow up behind her as she rested her head against my side. I opened the book and began reading, giving different voices to the different characters, making her giggle, and pointing at the pictures asking her questions. Halfway through, there was a knock at the door.

"Annabelle, it's time for bed," Jasper said in the doorway, but paused as he looked around the room. "Whoa—" his tone in awe as he took in the massive fort of blankets.

"Dad, Alice didn't finish the story!" Annabelle whined, her eyes widening in a panic seeming to be from her assumption that I may not finish the story. I put a hand on her back, smoothing her wavy curls comfortingly.

"Alright," Jasper replied with a light chuckle and I heard his footsteps as he approached the tent. Annabelle scrambled to her feet and stuck her head out.

"Girls only," Annabelle warned him and I giggled.

"Oh, really, Miss. Birthday Girl?" he retorted and she nodded surely. He sighed and stepped back, swinging her up so he could kiss her goodnight before he put her back on her feet. "I'll see you in the morning, goodnight," he said before Annabelle stumbled back to my side, curling up on the pillow beside me and pointing impatiently at the page we left off on.

I heard Jasper leave the room and I continued with the story, relaying the same accents and voices as before. Her laughter died off and became more lethargic with each page turn. Soon enough, her head bobbed back and she was fast asleep. I closed the book and eased myself away from her, picking her up carefully and leaving the tent to put her in her twin-sized pink floral bed. I tucked her in and turned off the light inside the fort before tiptoeing out of the room.

I turned back to shut the door slowly and not make a sound before I turned back to bump into Jasper. I gasped before I noticed he had a small sad smile plastered on his face as he grabbed my upper arms to steady me. "Thank you," he whispered. I nodded wordlessly and his hands slid down my arms before lacing his fingertips with mine. I squeezed his hand before I tugged him down the hall to get my things from the living room.

Soon enough, he was saying goodbye to me at the door, his arm around my waist, pressing me close to him. I stared up at him for a minute and as our eyes met, I imagined a life I could have, but had never anticipated. I imagined coming home to Annabelle bouncing down the steps of the porch, hugging my leg before running back in the house. I imagined Jasper greeting me on the porch with a kiss. I imagined an infant that had his spectacular emerald eyes, my chopped raven hair, my complexion, and his dimples—_our _baby. A smile tugged at my lips at the thought of it, but Jasper broke the intense stare as a grin spread across his face.

"What're you staring at?" Jasper whispered, his voice barely audible as we stood on his porch.

"Nothing," I answered, looking down embarrassed. My cheeks flushed and Jasper lifted my chin gently with his fingertips before his lips met mine in a chaste kiss. He broke away and rested his forehead against mine.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he whispered.

"I'll be here before she wakes up," I promised and Jasper's eyes widened slightly.

"You up before noon on a day off? I doubt it, but I'll be prepared," he replied with a smirk as I pulled away and hit his arm.

"Ye of little faith," I replied, sticking my tongue out at him. But I _was_ there before she woke up. So excited about the dress I had made for her, I could barely sleep myself. I wore a casual white strapless dress that had a subtle striped top before melting into a white A-line from the waist down. I wore ballet flats and brought her dress—a crocheted light pink dress with short-sleeves—in a box with a magnificent violet bow.

I rang the doorbell once and stood outside the house, tapping my foot. It was seven in the morning. Just as I expected, Jasper didn't answer the door, but I saw Annabelle press her face against the glass and grin when she saw me—or the present. She sprinted away from the door down the hall and before long; Jasper was stumbling down the hallway, fumbling with the locks, and opening the door.

"Happy Birthday!" I cheered as Annabelle gasped at the box. I handed it to her and she bounced up and down giddily. I looked over at Jasper, his hair a mess, his eyes half-closed, and his dark circles more prominent. I pinched his cheek and shut the door behind me. "Just wake up?"

He wrapped an arm around my waist and buried his face in my hair, grumbling incoherent rebuttals as Annabelle ripped open the package. She pulled the dress out and her eyes widened. Jasper lifted his head, recognizing the dress from our time together as well and he squeezed my hip.

"I thought you could wear it today," I interrupted the silence awkwardly. Annabelle ran over and hugged my leg tightly, the smile that hit her face looked almost painful it was so wide.

"What do you say?" Jasper asked as I leaned down to pick her up. She kissed my cheek and grinned from ear-to-ear.

"Thank you, Alice!" she squealed.

"You're welcome," I replied with a smile before I set her down.

"Go hang out in the living room and I'll make you breakfast; pancakes, right?" Jasper asked, putting his hand on her head. She wrinkled her nose and ducked away from his hand.

"Chocolate chip!" she yelled as she ran into the other room. Jasper pulled me tightly against his side and I gasped as I felt his warm breath on my ear.

"You didn't have to do that," he whispered groggily. I shrugged and he sighed, tugging me into the kitchen. I went to the coffee maker as he began mixing the pancake batter. He glanced up at me as I sat back on the stool. "Is that what you've been hiding for the past few weeks?"

"Maybe," I replied with a smile. He rolled his eyes and went back to cooking, the batter splattering out and hitting his shirt. "You're cute when you're tired." I said, hopping off the stool and sauntering over to his side before taking a bit of chocolate chips, standing on my toes to kiss his cheek and then walking out of the room.

I found Annabelle in the living room on the couch, her eyes glued to the television. I sat next to her and opened up my fist to offer her some chocolate chips. She took them greedily and munched quietly as she watched the hand-puppet program. As the commercials began, Annabelle snapped out of her brainwashed daze to look over at me and grin before popping another piece of chocolate in her mouth.

The doorbell rang and Annabelle hopped off the couch, running to the door. Jasper beat her there, picking her up. I hung out in the back and watched from the hallway as Jasper opened the door to Rosalie and Emmett.

"Happy Birthday, beautiful," Emmett boomed, scooping up the young girl into a monstrous embrace before putting her back down on the floor. Rosalie greeted her with a hug as well, handing her a perfectly wrapped present. Annabelle immediately began tearing the paper open. I had a feeling we'd need a little more than a few days to patch up what had happened earlier that week.

Emmett looked over and saw me before a grin spread across his face. "Hey, Alice," he called, bounding over to give me the same terrifying squeeze. He lifted me off my feet before placing me back on the floor. With the wind knocked out of me, I stumbled in a daze and leaned against the wall as we both watched Annabelle open her gift from a distance.

It was a dress also except it was cotton with colorful polka dots scattered across it. Jasper warned her and she murmured a small thank you, hugging her aunt before Jasper disappeared into the other room to finish cooking. After an awkward few minutes in the living room, we all gathered for breakfast where Annabelle boosted my ego a little bit. I sat between Jasper and Annabelle with Rosalie and Emmett across from me, all digging into their pancakes.

"Are you excited about the beach today?" Rosalie asked Annabelle, who nodded eagerly, stuffing more of the bite-sized pieces into her mouth before chewing and swallowing. She turned to her dad and pouted.

"Dad, can I wear the dress Alice made me or do I have to wear Aunt Rose's?" she asked, stumbling over her words with that adorable childish lisp, and I choked on my water mid-sip. Jasper looked over at me and then back to Annabelle, ignoring Rosalie's expression of pure loathing directed at me.

"It's your birthday, kiddo, I don't see why you can't wear what you want," he replied nonchalantly. Annabelle bounced up and down in her victory and I avoided Rosalie's glare, wanting to get through breakfast alive.

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**Do you need visuals? Do you want to see all of Alice's outfits or the dress she made for Annabelle? Do you want to see Rosalie's gift or her outfits or even Jasper's? Leave it in a review and I'll post the links to my author page. There's a bit of drama in the next chapter. It's already written up, so review away and I'll post it faster. Two or three more chapters to go (depending on if I write an epilogue or not). Thanks for reading! **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I listened to quite a bit of emo music while writing this. Who wants my playlist for this story? Leave it in a review. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, just Annabelle. The rest belong to Stephenie Meyer.**

I fell back on his bed, staring at the ceiling that Friday night. The day went well. Annabelle loved her present, Rosalie didn't attack me at the beach, Vera, Emmett, Peter, and Charlotte all welcomed me to the group and I went to the water lifting Annabelle to and from the waves with Jasper. We had returned home to sweet solitary duet bliss in his room. Annabelle had fallen asleep on the ride home and I had waited in his room until Jasper had tucked her in before the door creaked open and he joined me.

He sat up on the opposite side of the bed, his legs stretched out toward theend posts, while mine were stretched toward the headboard. He stared at me, but I couldn't look back. My flight was tomorrow night. I closed my eyes as his eyes left a burning trail across my skin. "Please, stop," I begged, my voice quivering in agony.

I couldn't leave Annabelle. After last night, reading with her and putting her to bed—I couldn't stand to leave her like this. She was so set on me being around at all hours of the day. Just last week, Jasper called the three times after work and put Annabelle on to talk to me. She said she missed my voice. She was too important to leave behind and yet—something was keeping me from sticking around.

I felt each of his knees settle on either side of my hips, his hands pinning my arms down to the bed. I opened my eyes to face reality; his eyes bore into mine intensely as if reading my soul, similar to the look he had given me when we first met. I didn't say a word and he breathed a sigh of frustration, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to my lips. I turned my face and he kissed my cheek instead.

"You can leave," he murmured against my skin. I closed my eyes and bit my lip, feeling his hands lift from my arms. "I'm not asking you to stay."

"That's what's so hard," I answered in the same hushed whisper. "If you told me to stay, I'd know how you feel about all of this," I said, turning my head back to meet his gaze. His eyes were torn and he opened his mouth to speak, but the indecision was prevalent in his gaze. "Please, Jazz, I—"

"It's not my decision, Alice," he replied, easing off of me and sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to me. I watched him tense as I slid a hand over and laced my fingers with his. I squeezed his hand and sighed, struggling to find the words myself.

"Well, you have a say in this," I argued, my voice choking up at the end. He shook his head and looked down into his lap. I squeezed his hand again and he gently tore his hand from mine, leaving a sickening emptiness that seemed oh-so-familiar from only a few weeks prior when he had neglected to call me after our first overnight encounter.

"You really want to hear what I think?" he asked tensely. I nodded and he paused for a moment. I could feel the tension in the room grow with each passing second. "You have a dream, Alice," he began. "You have a family, a home, and a life already picked out for yourself in New York and you've worked hard to get this far; I can't pull you away from it. That would be selfish."

"Jazz, you deserve to be a little selfish," I assured him, but he shook his head, his gaze glued to his lap. I closed my eyes and avoided a lost gaze, as he stayed further away from me.

"Will you come to Portland again for this movie?" he asked quietly, his voice quivering with a bit of untold emotion. Was it frustration or did he really not want to see me go?

"I don't think so. I can do the rest from New York, they don't need me here and they don't need to pay for me to be here," I said sadly, my voice lacked its normal optimism. I longed for him to pull me into his arms, kiss me senseless, and beg for me to stay, but he didn't.

"And you don't come here often," he spoke rhetorically, but I answered with a timid 'no' regardless. "I have your number, long-distance could always work until you're settled and have more money to splurge on traveling. I mean, I have school ending next fall and then I'll be paying off loans and bills, so it may take me a little longer to come see you. I could ask Rose for a little financial help, but then again, with Annabelle—"

"Please tell me you're not considering long-distance," I pleaded, sitting up and climbing over to him, my lips against his ear. "Just tell me to stay," I begged, my lips brushing against his ear lobe. He pulled away from me, standing in front of me now. Frustrated, I stood as well, though my height difference put me at a disadvantage.

"Tell me something," I said, fighting to meet his gaze. "You obviously don't agree with Rosalie because you've seen me even after you knew I was leaving. You let me into your house to meet Annabelle and time and time again, you've had me here for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and afterwards. I've gone to her birthday party, played cards, dolls, and even hand puppets with your daughter," he met my gaze and I glanced to see his hands tighten to fists. "But you don't want me here? You're not asking me to stay? Did you just want a part-time babysitter, Jasper? Because I'm sure Rosalie would've been happy to take over for me." His jaw clenched as he fought back what he was going to say, but I was too keyed up, too enthralled to comprehend it. "I want to be with you, Jazz, but I don't want us to be a moot point. I don't want to stay if you don't want me to because—" my voice quivering as it trailed off.

"What're you trying to say?" he answered, his gaze intently reading my soul. I opened it earnestly, letting him read every bit of emotion I was emitting as I spoke the next three words without actually processing them first.

"I love you," I whispered. His eyes flickered past an array of emotions, too quick for me to decipher them and then they were dead and cold. My heart pounded against my chest and I immediately regretted my verbal declaration of affection. I stepped away from him, blinking and looking down. "Are you going to say something or was that hesitation just telling me that this was a waste of time?" I choked out.

"Alice…" there was that tone again; the "_I just want to be friends" _tone. I balled my hands into fists and stepped back frantically trying to take it all back and rewind.

"No—It's okay, just—don't," I prayed, turning my back on him and grabbing my bag, walking in a blind haze to the front door. Jasper followed me, grabbing my arm and shutting the door I had just opened and keeping me inside for a minute more. "What?" I asked, my lip quivering pathetically as I regretfully let my emotions take over. Now wasn't the time to cry.

"Alice, you have a life set out for you. I don't want to make this harder and say things that—" he began, but I put my hand over his on my arm and loosened his grip, prying his hand off of me. I turned and opened the door, stepping out onto the porch and down the steps before whipping around and pointing an accusatory finger at him.

"You're scared," I said as he followed me out to the front lawn. "You're terrified I'd make you happy. You're scared of what others will think, you're scared of me or me and Annabelle—or maybe you're still afraid of Maria."

He winced at the name and his eyes grew furious as he grabbed my arm again and growled, "don't talk about her."

"That's it," I accused, ripping my arm from his tight grasp and stepping back as I approached the car Vera let me borrow. "You're afraid I'll be just like she was; that I'll leave Annabelle or maybe just you."

"That's not what it is," he replied, his voice dripping with the same bitter venom his sister wore just a few nights ago.

"The funny thing is, you know I won't," I continued on as he stopped in his approach. "You know I love you and it isn't just a lie, but your heart is all over the place. It's a month, how much can attraction mean in a month, right? And now you're thinking about the butterfly-stomach, the emptiness when we're apart—God, Jasper, that is love!" I yelled, my voice shaking with hysterics. "So just tell me to stay."

_One… _Jasper took a step toward me. _Two… _He froze. _Three… _We locked eyes: mine pleading and his emotionless. _Four… _The lights of the neighbors' house came on. _Five… _Jasper took a step back.

My heart dropped, my throat closed up, my eyes sank, and I choked out another sob before I scrambled to open the door and get into the car. I didn't look back as the engine roared to life, as I sped out of the driveway, and as I drove further away from the house. I stormed into the hotel, running up the stairs to blow off some steam after getting odd looks from the bystanders in the lobby at my running mascara and hiccupped sobs. I planned to spend my last night in the hotel room, haphazardly packing my things and sobbing pathetically before I remembered Edward's message from so long ago.

I slid my cardkey in the lock and opened the door, throwing my stuff down on the countertop in the kitchen. I downed a glass of water, my hands shaking with pent up emotion. Finally, I calmed down enough to dial his number; I cleared my throat as he answered. "Took you long enough," Edward greeted me.

"Sorry, what's up?" I replied, easing myself onto the couch, hugging a pillow to my chest.

"What's wrong?" he immediately recognized my not-so-chipper voice. I groaned and rolled my eyes.

"Just tired," I replied, giving him a warning to move on to another topic. "Why'd you call?"

"You're coming home tomorrow, I can just tell you then," he responded. I sighed; he always did this when I wouldn't tell him something. I heard Bella in the background—what she said was unclear, but when I heard a smack, I knew she wanted him to cut the crap. "Ow! Fine, okay. Your agent called the apartment yesterday. Why she didn't call you, I don't know, but anyway, she said some fashion designer saw your portfolio on your _fabulous_ website," the one he helped me with, "and immediately called her asking for your availability."

"Fashion designer?" I asked, rolling my eyes. As if he knew any. Who the hell would want to see me—here I was in the middle of nowhere designing costumes for a potential flop movie. _Humor me, Eddie._ "Who?"

"Someone who works for Jen Kao." I dropped the phone. Jen Kao was an up-and-coming New York designer known for her quirky sense of style. She wanted to team up with me? Was I to be her assistant? Still, it was an amazing opportunity regardless of what I was doing! He was joking. Was he joking? Someone from Jen Kao asking about _me_ and _my_ designs? I heard Edward call my name from the phone and scrambled to pick it up. "They like your ideas and want to meet you. She said something about you going to Paris in January to be their eyes and ears for some designer conference. They want you taking notes or something, I don't know, but this is a huge opportunity."

"Yeah," I choked out, my voice now with a new light to it. I grew giddy at the idea of it all. Paris… Jen Kao… It was a dream come true. I still had to meet them of course, but it was an amazing opportunity. All thoughts of Jasper were out of my head as I clutched the phone, eagerly awaiting more details, but he came up short.

"Congratulations," Edward snapped me out of my daze. "I'll let you call your agent and get some sleep. I'll pick you up at the airport tomorrow."

"Thank you," I grinned. "Wait!" I squealed into the phone, sniffling a little. "I know I shouldn't ask, but—how're you and Bella?" I asked casually.

"We didn't elope, Alice. The wedding plans still belong to you," Edward replied and my grin grew wider. Well at least something when right tonight. "I'll pick you up tomorrow. Get some sleep."

I jumped to my feet and hanging up the phone before sprinting to my room and packing my things with a lithe bounce in my step. My happiness was short-lived, however. That emptiness, the bitter cold that chilled me to the core when I was no longer around Jasper still hung mockingly as if forbidding me my happiness without him by my side. Frustrated, I angrily closed the zipper on my suitcase and carelessly tossed it to the corner of my room before enjoying the rest of my night alone.

* * *

**A/N: The visuals have been added to my author page, so go check them out! Thanks for reading! Next chapter is the second-to-last before an epilogue, but would you guys rather have a epilogue or a sequel? Leave it in the reviews. Thanks for reading! **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thank you for reading!**

**Disclaimer: I own Annabelle and the situation; Meyer owns the characters. **

I woke up the next morning to my cell phone dancing across the nightstand as it vibrated. Digging the heels of my palms into my eyes I groaned, rolling over to blindly pat down the surface and grab it. I flipped it open and grumbled a groggy, "hello?"

"Hey," _Vera. _"Oh, crap, did I wake you? Sorry! I just thought you'd need a ride to the airport and I wanted to say goodbye. Plus, I don't think you'd want to take a car there," she rambled and I sat up slowly, blinking my eyes back into focus. All the memories of last night flooded back to me and I glanced down at my mascara stained pillow.

"No, it's fine, thanks for waking me, I have to be out of here in an hour anyway," I assured her, stumbling out of bed and going into the small kitchen to start making coffee. "Uh—I don't want you to have to drive me, I can call to get a car," I replied, but she wouldn't have it.

"No! Your flight isn't until six tonight anyway, so why don't we hang out a little today?" I could hear the pout in her voice and right on cue, I thought of him. "Unless you're hanging out with Jasper today," she said as I pictured his mocking pout, his dimpled infectious crooked smile.

"Nope," I answered evenly, internally grateful that my voice hadn't cracked. I took out a coffee mug and shut the cabinet a bit too harshly, slamming the door shut.

"Oh," was all Vera said before she, like the friend I knew she was, decided to quickly change subjects. "So you want to hang out? We'll just go out to lunch and I'll drop you at the airport and say goodbye," she offered hopefully. I glanced over my shoulder to see my bag packed and outfit picked out for the day—when was I ever that organized?

"Sure," I agreed reluctantly. She agreed to pick me up in an hour and as I hung up, I wandered into the bathroom to shower and start scrubbing the mascara from my cheeks. I changed into two Simone dresses that I layered with some ballet flats. It was a bit too casual for my style, but I didn't have any need to dress flawlessly to the airport. Hence why my hair just air-dried and didn't catch much style.

Soon enough, Vera called and came up to help me with my bags. I didn't bother calling the bellhop, just wanting to get out of there. Walking to the elevator, we stopped outside as I flipped my phone over in my hands anxiously. I glanced at the clock and then at the text messages, just a few from Edward.

"You okay?" Vera asked as the bell sounded and the door opened. She pulled my wheeled-suitcase in and I carried my larger carry-on bag—I insisted I could handle both, but she wouldn't have it.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said with a smile. Just then, my phone lit up and signaled a call. Without looking, I answered it with a sigh and a "hello?" I nearly dropped the phone when I heard who answered.

"Alice, can I—" Jasper's voice caught me off guard, but instead of answering him or listening to anymore he had to say, I pulled my phone away from my ear and hung it up, looking over at Vera and shrugging.

"Wrong number," I dismissed and Vera smiled. I felt my phone ring again and decided to turn it off. Hopefully he'd get the hint.

We came to the lobby and Vera brought my suitcase outside while I checked out. I met her out by her hybrid and slid in the passenger seat with a smile as Vera immediately started talking.

"I'm so glad you came with me. I didn't want you leaving before I could say goodbye," Vera said. She was a genuinely nice girl. I'd miss her, but she lived close to Manhattan and was just here for the movie for another three months. I could tell I was going to miss her like crazy, but she lived in upstate New York.

"I'm glad you convinced me," I replied with a smile. "But as soon as you come back to New York, I want you to call me so we can meet up!" I begged her as the car sped out of the parking lot and onto one of the main busy streets. Vera looked down with a smile, but her eyes were wandering. Something was wrong. "What?"

"Alice," her voice was wary as if she were going to let out some big news. "I'll tell you when we get to the restaurant," she finished, shaking her head.

"No, you can tell me now," I said, my voice in a panic. She was stubborn, though, and we made it all the way to a quaint restaurant across the city. We sat in a booth in the dimly lit dining hall just as the rain began outside. Lucky for us, Vera had a feeling and brought two umbrellas in with us.

We ordered drinks and the waitress left the table after handing out menus and as Vera's eyes skimmed over the lunch deals, I closed mine and put my hand over hers, pulling it out of her grasp. "Alright, spill."

Vera sighed, looking me in the eyes and turning away slightly. "We're moving to Portland," she broke the news and I swallowed back any comment to come forward, letting her finish. "I have been writing my own screenplays and sent them out to Los Angeles. I'm waiting to hear back, but two companies already said they were interested. John said he didn't want me moving around so much if this all worked out and I already found a house. Plus, Henry is so young; we can still move and changing school won't be an issue. Not to mention, Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie are here—I have friends, a second family to watch Henry when I'm away or just to be with… I don't want to–"

"Vera, you don't have to explain yourself," I replied, giving her a rest. "I'm happy for you! I didn't know you were an aspiring screenwriter. Director, sure, but screenwriter? That's awesome."

"I didn't know either," she blushed from the compliment and looked down as I handed back her menu and she opened it sheepishly. "I just had a couple ideas and started writing."

I sat back for a minute, looking down at my menu and zoning out a bit. Wow, so not only would I lose Jasper and Annabelle, but Vera, too? Plus, I still wished to have a friendship with Rosalie… Not to mention Emmett loved picking on me and we had formed a sort-of brother-sister relationship in our short meeting. Charlotte was friendly and would constantly pop in to watch Jasper and I interact with Annabelle uninvited, but she was similar to Vera: affable, polite, and generous. But now my one connection back to Portland was leaving New York, too—and so soon?

Vera jumped and smiled apologetically. "Sorry, I didn't realize my phone was in my pocket," she apologized as she squirmed to find her phone and looked at the screen. I went back to my menu and decided on a Greek salad before I heard Vera on the phone. "Hi," she greeted with her signature hospitable tone. "Uh—yeah, why? I don't think she—no, you're right. I won't. All right, bye."

"Who was that?" I asked curiously as she hung up and looked up with a shrug.

"Rosalie about Annabelle. She wants to stop by and surprise her," she shrugged. "She was asking if she could meet me tomorrow rather than tonight." The waitress came over and saved her from explaining further. Our lunch was long, we giggled and talked, gabbed and gossiped. I didn't talk about my Jen Kao opportunity in New York—I don't know why, I just hadn't mentioned it. She forced me into a chocolate moose pie that she claimed was "to die for!" It was.

I didn't want to say goodbye to Vera, but as she pulled into the drop-off of the airport and got out to help me get my suitcase out of the trunk, we stayed under the overhang to avoid the rain and hugged for what felt like hours. I didn't want to let go. She finally pried me off of her and I apologized, but she was fighting back tears. "Go before we make a scene and we both start crying," Vera said with a shaky laugh.

I hugged her one more time before grabbing my suitcase and lugging it inside. After checking in my bags, I went to grab a cup of coffee and sat at the gate, curled up in a chair, taking out my sketchbook and flipping through it. Five pages were filled with sketches of Annabelle's ensemble before I flipped to a portrait of Jasper. I had begun it in his living room one night as he finished up some schoolwork after he put Annabelle to bed. His furrowed brow as he concentrated, the small smirk I kept from when he realized what I had been doing…

I shut the sketchbook and put it back in my carry-on bag. "We're now boarding. Passengers with children and those who have the emergency exit seating are first to board. Next will be our handicapped and elderly passengers. Please be patient," the employee said cheerfully. If she were in New York, her tone would be anything but peppy as I noticed the dozens of children and wheelchair passengers on the flight.

From the rain, I knew we'd be sitting on the flight for a while until it passed. We were delayed, as always. I stood up to stretch my legs, taking out my phone and turning it on. As I noticed the hundreds of missed calls come up, I remembered why it was off and put it in my pocket on vibrate. I flattened the hem of my dress and faced the boarding ramp as I waited for the children and other passengers to board, toying with my ticket. My mind wandered, fighting back and forth with my heart.

Should I really go? Edward and Bella are getting married; of course I should go. But Vera was moving. So what? I had friends back in New York. What about Annabelle? She won't remember in ten years. And Jasper—he didn't even say goodbye to me. He doesn't love me. He couldn't say it.

A hand gripped my upper arm, turning me around and I gasped at the ferocity of the motion. I blinked as I saw Jasper, his hair a mess, his eyes wild, his clothes wrinkled and drenched from the rain. He was breathing heavily as if he had just run a marathon. His hand gripped my arm as if trying to keep me there in front of him—as if I would move.

"Jasper?" my voice shook slightly as I felt the same lump in my throat from last night find its familiar place. "Did you just run here?" I asked, as his breathing turned ragged and didn't seem to relax.

He swallowed and nodded. "I parked too far away; I didn't want to miss you—but that's not the point," his spearmint breath warmed my cheeks as he exhaled shakily. I struggled to avoid his penetrating gaze, knowing that was my weakness with him. With one look, I would be nothing, but putty in his hands.

"So what is the point, because I'm kind of busy," I replied, moving to turn toward the slowly boarding plane, but he pulled me right back. I slammed into his chest before our lips met in a pure intoxicating kiss. I felt his hands on either hip and I heard my bag drop to the floor as my hand ran through his hair and then down to pull on his collar, bringing him closer. I leaned on my tiptoes to reach him and he lifted me slightly as we must have created a scene in the middle of the airport. I didn't mind it.

His tongue traced my lower lip and I held back a moan as our lips moved in tandem. I couldn't keep a single thought in my head as I felt my dress riding up just an inch or two. He pulled back too soon, but kept me on my toes as he nuzzled his nose with mine. "I love you," he confessed breathlessly. "Stay," he whispered, his lips brushing over mine. I closed my eyes and grunted quietly in frustration.

"Why didn't you tell me this last night?" I whispered back and he waited for me to continue. "I was offered a job in New York—I'd be going to Paris," I replied and I felt him pull back. I let off my toes and looked down, biting my lip as he took a step back. I couldn't look up to see his disappointed gaze and retracting emotions. I anticipated that, but I hadn't expected what happened next.

A black velvet box was in the palm of his hand and he opened it to reveal a silver banded ring with a diamond in the center—simple, elegant, perfect. "I'll wait," he replied and I gasped.

* * *

**A/N: I used to have more to the ending, so if you liked that bit added, tell me and I'll add an outtake. I didn't like it as much and got rid of it. Hope you liked the ending. There will be a sequel as you all requested, however I have a new crazy idea for a fanfic and I'm not sure if I'm going to start that during/after the sequel. It's a darker version of Twilight that I've wanted to do for a while. I just don't know if everyone will be open-minded... anyway, there will be a sequel, so don't worry! Thanks for reading and review! Tell me what you want to see in the sequel, what you liked about this chapter, what you like to see more of in the next story. Review, review. :) **


	10. Outtake

**A/N: Explanation of the outtake is at the bottom of the page because it contains details of what is talked about below. Whatever, just read it after you read the outtake.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own it, Meyer does.**

**Outtake **

"Why didn't you tell me this last night?" I whispered back and he waited for me to continue. "I was offered a job in New York—I'd be going to Paris," I replied and I felt him pull back. I let off my toes and looked down, biting my lip as he took a step back. I couldn't look up to see his disappointed gaze and retracting emotions. I anticipated that, but I hadn't expected what happened next.

A black velvet box was in the palm of his hand and he opened it to reveal a silver banded ring with a diamond in the center—simple, elegant, perfect. "I'll wait," he replied and I gasped.

I looked up with an obviously stunned look, my mouth agape. After a few seconds, minutes, or hours—I was too stunned to grasp time—he brushed a few strands of hair from my cheek and smiled lovingly. "Will you—" he began, but I cut him off with an ever-excited squeal of a yes before I threw myself at him.

I jumped to my toes, my lips meeting his and my arms wrapping around his neck to pull him close to me. He steadied my outburst with a protective arm around my waist. I felt myself radiating with happiness, too excited and euphoric to move from his embrace, but he pulled back slightly to take my left hand, slipping the ring on my finger.

"Boarding all passengers," the employee called from the door of the boarding ramp. I looked up at Jasper, who pulled away slightly, but I pouted and stood up on my toes to kiss him again. He pulled back, keeping his hands on my hips to pull me back a bit and I shook my head. I didn't get it—didn't this mean I was staying now?

"I couldn't have you go back to New York without my little claim on you," he explained with a childish smirk, his cheeks turning a deep crimson. "Go back to New York, take that opportunity. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you stayed here with me when you can go to Paris," he whispered, his lips brushing my cheek as I grasped a fistful of his shirt, not wanting to let go.

"Why would you do this to me?" I whined and he furrowed his brow, kissing my cheek. "How am I supposed to tell people I met this wonderful guy in a month and we're already engaged?" I complained and he chuckled, hugging me tightly and burying his head into my neck, muffling his laughter. He pressed a kiss there, squeezing me tightly and pulling back. "Long distance relationships never work," I continued to whine, hoping the plane would just leave without me so I'd have a better excuse to stay. Suddenly Paris didn't seem so appealing. "What about long distance engagements? I mean, how am I supposed to keep in touch with you; we're hours apart! Not to mention, we have a wedding to—" He hushed me with a kiss.

"You'll—we'll survive," he replied with a childish dimpled smile. He glanced over my shoulder and loosened his grip on me. "You have to go," he told me quietly as I hugged him tighter. His forehead rested against mine.

"I don't want to," I whispered sadly. He sighed, that tantalizing minty breath warmed me all over, making me shiver. He lifted my chin and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips before he pulled back again.

"When you come back from Paris, I'll still be here waiting," he assured me with a sad smile. I cupped his cheek and didn't look away from his emerald gaze. "I love you," he repeated earnestly. I sighed at the tingled feeling those three words gave me and I nodded sadly, looking down and picking up my bag. He pressed another kiss to my lips before kissing my forehead. I closed my eyes, relishing the feeling of his embrace.

"I love you, too," I replied before pulling back, feeling completely empty. He held onto my hand as I walked away, standing still, but childishly not letting it go until I couldn't hold it anymore. I went to give the woman the ticket, being the last one in the area to board the plane. As she took my ticket, I looked back at Jasper, who smiled reassuringly as if promising me again that he would stay. I turned back as the woman handed me my ticket and I looked back a second time as I walked down the ramp.

I eventually had to break his gaze as I boarded the plane, taking my seat in the middle by the window, sitting next to an empty chair and a woman who had already fallen asleep. "Turn off all electronics and eyes front for the safety protocol, folks. We want to get out of here and get to New York without a large delay."

I ignored the different flotation devices, gadgets, gizmos, and seatbelt safety features that the flight attendants were demonstrating in the front of the plane. Instead, I looked down to admire the ring that now shone brightly on my left hand. Giddily, I looked out the window to see Jasper's eyes meet mine in a brilliant loving gaze and my heart ached. He raised an eyebrow, sensing my unease and he mouthed those three words that restarted my heart all over again.

"I love you."

* * *

**Alright, let me explain this outtake. This was the ending for Chapter 9, but I cut it out because I didn't think it fit. I also tweaked it for the few of you who read it and I probably lost some readers who didn't want a happy ending, but majority rules. Anyway, stay tuned, it's not all happy. I posted this because y****ou all wanted to read it, but I also have to explain this: I am a semi-feminist. I like the whole women working thing and Jasper is a gentleman, so naturally he would want her to go take the job opportunity and would promise to wait for her - romantic stuff. You'll see what I have planned in the next one. Naturally, long distance won't work even in a utopia, so there will be a bit of tension in the sequel. You can review this or not, but I do love your feedback. You can see why I left this out, right? Maybe not. I felt like it was too weird them saying goodbye after they just got engaged and it didn't make sense. I'll explain this better in chapter one of the sequel. **

**Ignore this outtake... Yeah. **


	11. Author Note

**JUST AN UPDATE! **

**The sequel, _Blindsided_, is complete! Go on over and check that out because I see a few have story alerted this story and it's complete!**

**Also, if you want to hear a bit more about what I'm doing, what I'm writing, and when I'll be posting, check out my twitter account: twitter dot com slash lipstickletter. The link is on my author page. Feel free to ask me questions or just check up to see when I'm writing. :)**

**Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy the sequel! **


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